There is nothing certain in a man's life but that he must lose it.

That man is great, and he alone, Who serves a greatness not his own, For neither praise nor self: Content to know and be unknown: Whole in himself.

Master books, but do not let them master you. - Read to live, not live to read.

We may live without poetry, music and art; We may live without conscience, and live without heart; We may live without friends; we may live without books; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. . . . He may live without books,-what is knowledge but grieving? He may live without hope,-what is hope but deceiving? He may live without love,-what is passion but pining? But where is the man that can live without dining?

There is a pleasure that is born of pain.

Do not think that years leave us and find us the same!

Alas! must it ever be so? Do we stand in our own light, wherever we go, And fight our own shadows forever?