Everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.

I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams.

That beautiful mild woman for whose sake There's many a one shall find out all heartache On finding that her voice is sweet and low Replied, 'To be born a woman is to know- Although they do not talk of it at school - That we must labor to be beautiful.

It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.

Teaching is not filling up a pail, it is lighting a fire.

I have no question: It is enough, I know what fixed the station Of star and cloud. And knowing all, I cry. . . .

I have known more men destroyed by the desire to have wife and child and to keep them in comfort than I have seen destroyed by drink and harlots.