Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.

Lowliness is the base of every virtue, And he who goes the lowest builds the safest.

Oh, could we lift the future's sable shroud.

Leave the poor Some time for self-improvement. Let them not Be forced to grind the bones out of their arms For bread, but have some space to think and feel Like moral and immortal creatures.

He is a fool who is not for love and beauty. I speak unto the young, for I am of them and always shall be.

Could we but think with the intensity we love with, we might do great things.

We live not to ourselves, our work is life.