Happy season of childhood! Kind Nature, that art to all a bountiful mother; that visitest the poor man's hut With auroral radiance; and for thy nursling hast provided a soft swathing of love and infinite hope wherein he waxes and slumbers, danced round by sweetest dreams!

What we become depends on what we read after all of the professors have finished with us. The greatest university of all is a collection of books.

Blessed is he who has found his work; let him ask no other blessedness.

A man without a goal is like a ship without a rudder.

The true past departs not, no truth or goodness realized by man ever dies, or can die; but all is still here, and, recognized or not, lives and works through endless change.

History is a mighty dramos, enacted upon the theatre of times, with suns for lamps and eternity for a background.

The meaning of song goes deep. Who in logical words can explain the effect music has on us? A kind of inarticulate, unfathomable speech, which leads us to the edge of the infinite, and lets us for a moment gaze into that!