As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend.

Things always seem fairer when we look back at them, and it is out of that inaccessible tower of the past that Longing leans and beckons.

The surest plan to make a man is, think him so.

The nurse of full-grown souls is solitude.

Democracy gives every man the right to be his own oppressor.

Sorrow is the great idealizer.

As one lamp lights another, nor grows less,So nobleness enkindleth nobleness.