There is a little plant called reverence in the corner of my soul's garden, which I love to have watered once a week.

And silence, like a poultice, comes To heal the blows of sound.

Beware of making your moral staple consist of the negative virtues.

It is perfectly easy to be original by violating the laws of decency and the canons of good taste.

Research and writing are lonely occupations. It is easy to become discouraged in solitary confinement.

Why should you row a boat race? Why endure the long months of pain in preparation for a fierce half hour that will leave you all but dead? Does anyone ask the question? Is there anyone who would not go through all the costs, and more, for the moment when anguish breaks into triumph or even for the glory of having nobly lost? Is life less than a boat race? If a man will give the blood in his body to win the one, will he spend all the might of his soul to prevail in the other?

These are the hands whose sturdy labor brings The peasant's food, the golden pomp of kings; This is the page whose letters shall be seen, Changed by the sun to words of living green; This is the scholar whose immortal penSpells the first lesson hunger taught to men; These are the lines that heaven-commanded Toil Shows on his deed, - the charter of the soil!