The gift without the giver is rare.

The true ideal is not opposed to the real but lies in it; and blessed are the eyes that find it.

Who is it needs such flawless shafts as fate? What archer of his arrows is so choice, or hits the white so surely?

Certainly it is no shame to a man that he should be as nice about his country as his sweetheart, yet it would not be wise to hold everyone an enemy who could not see her with our own enchanted eyes.

No sincere desire of doing good need make an enemy of a single human being; that philanthropy has surely a flaw in it which cannot sympathize with the oppressor equally as with the oppressed.

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

There is something solid and doughty in the man that can rise from defeat, the stuff of which victories are made in due time, when we are able to choose our position better, and the sun is at our back.