The tumalt and shouting dies, The captains and the kings depart. Still stands thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heat. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.

If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten.

If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

If you can meet success and failure and treat them both as impostors, then you are a balanced man, my son.

Tis beauty, so to speak, nor good talk necessarily. It's just IT. Some women will stay in a man's memory if they once walked down a street.

It's clever, but is it Art?

The toad beneath the harrow knows Exactly where each tooth point goes.