Teach you children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to wisdom and makes the heroic virtues hereditary.
November's sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear.
Still are the thoughts to memory dear.
Adversity is like the period of the rain. . . cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals; yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate.
Mankind — the race would perish did they cease to aid each other.
Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.