The days that are still to come are the wisest witnesses.

If one but tell a thing well, it moves on with undying voice, and over the fruitful earth and across the sea goes the bright gleam of noble deeds ever unquenchable.

Humble in a humble state and great in greatness, I will work out the divinity that is busy within my mind.

One race there is of men, one of gods, but from one mother we both draw our breath.

Unsung, the noblest deed will die.

Forge thy tongue on an anvil of truth and what flies up, though it be but a spark, will have light.

Point thy tongue on the anvil of truth.