Forge thy tongue on an anvil of truth and what flies up, though it be but a spark, will have light.
Sweet is war to those who know it not.
Success for the striven washes away the effort of striving.
O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.
Wrapt up in error is the human mind, And human bliss is ever insecure; Know we what fortune yet remains behind? Know we how long the present shall endure?
A thing said walks in immortality if it has been said well.