The Victory's In Believing.

The Future Works Out Great Men's Destinies; The Present Is Enough For Common Souls, Who, Never Looking Forward, Are Indeed Mere Clay Wherein The Footprints Of Their Age Are Petrified Forever.

Endurance Is The Crowning Quality, And Patience All The Passion Of Great Hearts.

Suddenly All The Sky Is Hid As With The Shutting Of A Lid, One By One Great Drops Are Falling Doubtful And Slow, Down The Pane They Are Crookedly Crawling, And The Wind Breathes Low; Slowly The Circles Widen On The River, Widen And Mingle, One And All; Here And There The Slenderer Flowers Shiver, Struck By An Icy Rain-drop’s Fall.

There Is Nothing So Desperately Monotonous As The Sea, And I No Longer Wonder At The Cruelty Of Pirates.

Books Are The Bees Which Carry The Quickening Pollen From One To Another Mind.