The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in a hole.

The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.

We had fed the heart on fantasies, The heart's grown brutal from the fare, More substance in our enmities Than in our love

The falcon cannot hear the falconer

Every conquering temptation represents a new fund of moral energy. Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.

Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.

I have believed the best of every man. And find that to believe is enough to make a bad man show him at his best, or even a good man swings his lantern higher.