A Moment Is A Concentrated Eternity.

The Cheapness Of Man Is Every Day's Tragedy.

In Spite Of Virtue And The Muse, Nemesis Will Have Her Dues, And All Our Struggles And Our Toils Tighter Wind The Giant Coils.

A Man Is Not To Aim At Innocence, Any More Than He Is To Aim At Hair, But He Is To Keep It.

The River Knows The Way To The Sea: Without A Pilot It Runs And Falls, Blessing All Lands With Its Charity.

These Are The Voices Which We Hear In Solitude, But They Grow Faint And Inaudible As We Enter Into The World.