The Doubtful Beam Long Nods From Side

Lo! The Poor Indian, Whose Untutored Mind Sees God In Clouds, Or Hears Him In The Wind.

The Vanity Of Human Life Is Like A River, Constantly Passing Away, And Yet Constantly Coming On.

Fine Sense And Exalted Sense Are Not Half So Useful As Common Sense. There Are Forty Men Of Wit For One Man Of Sense; And He That Will Carry Nothing About Him But Gold, Will Be Every Day At A Loss For Want Of Readier Change.

Never Elated When Someone's Oppressed, Never Dejected When Another One's Blessed.

Those Move Easiest Who Have Learn'd To Dance.