He mastered whatever was not worth the knowing.
Over our manhood bend the skies; Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies; With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite And to our ages drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea.
There are two kinds of weakness, that which breaks and that which bends.
No mud can soil us but the mud we throw.
We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage.
Most men make the voyage of life as if they carried sealed orders which they were not to open till they were fairly in mid-ocean.