Worshippers of light ancestral make the present light a crime.

The pale and quiet moon Makes her calm forehead bare, And the last fragments of the storm, Like shattered rigging from a fight at sea, Silent and few, are drifting over me.

Earth's biggest country 's gut her soul, An' risen up earth's greatest nation.

It is not the insurrections of ignorance that are dangerous, but the revolts of the intelligence.

Ez fer war, I call it murder,- There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that. . . . . . An' you 've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.

For men in earnest have no time to waste In patching fig-leaves for the naked truth.

Attention is the stuff that memory is made of, and memory is accumulated genius.