Words, however, are things.

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.

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

The world is filled with folly and sin, And Love must cling, where it can, I say: For Beauty is easy enough to win; But one isn't loved every day.

Only by knowledge of that which is not thyself, shall thyself be learned.

No life can be pure in its purpose, and strong in its strife, and all life not be purer and stronger thereby.

There is a pleasure that is born of pain.