Language is fossil Poetry.

Pride ruined the angels.

When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work , but the solidest thing we know.

Not gold but only men can makeA people great and strong;Men who for truth and honors sakeStand fast and suffer long. Brave men who work while others sleep,Who dare while others flyThey build a nations pillars deepAnd lift them to the sky.

The soul contains the event that shall befall it, for the event is only the actualization of its thoughts; and what we pray to ourselves for is always granted.

The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried.

Underneath the inharmonious and trivial particulars, is a musical perfection, the Ideal journeying always with us, the heaven without rent or seam.