Life's battle is a conquest for the strong; The meaning shows in the defeated thing.

In the power and splendor of the universe, inspiration waits for the millions to come. Man has only to strive for it. Poems greater than the Iliad, plays greater than Macbeth, stories more engaging than Don Quixote await their seeker and finder.

I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.

Life's battle is a conquest for the strong; The meaning shows in the defeated thing.

It is too maddening. I've got to fly off, right now, to some devilish navy yard, 3 hours in a seasick steamer, & after being heartily sick, I'll have to speak 3 times, & then be sick coming home. Still, who would not be sick for England?

I hold that when a person dies / His soul returns again to earth; / Arrayed in some new flesh disguise / Another mother gives him birth / With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.

And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.