Add little to little and there will be a big pile.

The love of glory gives an immense stimulus.

I am above being injured by fortune, though she steals away much, more will remain with me. The blessing I now enjoy transcend fear.

I grabbed a pile of dust, and holding it up, foolishly asked for as many birthdays as the grains of dust, I forgot to ask that they be years of youth.

It is some relief to weep; grief is satisfied and carried off by tears.

To wish is of little account; to succeed you must earnestly desire; and this desire must shorten thy sleep.

What is harder than rock, or softer than water? Yet soft water hollows out hard rock. Persevere.