Once I blazed across the sky, Leaving trails of flame; I fell to earth, and here I lie - Who'll help me up again? -A Shooting Star

One doesn't always lose when one has to do without.

Is it life, I ask, is it even prudence, To bore thyself and bore the students?

No one as ever completed their apprenticeship.

What you have inherited from your forefathers, it takes work to make it your own.

Men in a state of nature, uncivilized nations, children, have a great fondness for colors in their utmost brightness, and especially for yellow-red.

I bid the chords sweet music make, And all must follow in my wake.