I like to think that when I fall, A rain-drop in Death's shoreless sea, This shelf of books along the wall, Beside my bed, will mourn for me.

Our breath is brief, and being so Let's make our heaven here below, And lavish kindness as we go.

The happy man is he who knows his limitations, yet bows to no false gods.

This is the law of the Yukon, that only the strong shall thrive; that surely the weak shall perish, and only the fit survive.

The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried; You tread on the heels of the many, till you come where the ways divide;And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is dreary and wan,But you look aslant at the Lone Trail, and the Lone Trail lures you on.

Even goats may have starlight in their eyes.

I like to think that when I fall, A rain-drop in Death's shoreless sea, This shelf of books along the wall, Beside my bed, will mourn for me.