One wise man's verdict outweighs all the fools'.

Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.

Truth never hurt the teller.

What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.

How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!

This could but have happened once,- And we missed it, lost it forever.

For life, with all its yields of joy and woe Is just a chance o' the prize of learning love.