Good heavens, of what un costly material is our earthly happiness composed... if we only knew it. What incomes have we not had from a flower, and how unfailing are the dividends of the seasons.

The victory's in believing.

And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days.

There are two kinds of weakness, that which breaks and that which bends.

What men call luck Is the prerogative of valiant souls, The fealty life pays its rightful kings.

The material of thought re-acts upon the thought itself.

Aspiration sees only one side of every question; possession many.