How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead; So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!

It's wiser being good than bad; It's safer being meek than fierce: It's fitter being sane than mad.

We find great things are made of little things, And little things go lessening till at last Comes God behind them.

Tis looking downward makes one dizzy.

A man in armor is his armor's slave.

Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, all were for me, in the kiss of one girl.

And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,- comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable.