The glory of the garden lies in more than meets the eye.

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!

When young lips have drunk deep of the bitter waters of hate, suspicion and despair, all the love in the world will not wholly take away that knowledge. Though it may turn darkened eyes for a while to the light, and teach faith where no faith was.

Take up the White Man's burden -- send forth the best ye breed -- go, bind your sons to exile to serve your captives need.

What stands if freedom fall?

Go softly by that river side Or when you would depart, You'll find its every winding tied; And knotted round your heart.

He became an officer and a gentleman, which is an enviable thing.