Time Is The Life Of The Soul.

Thought Takes Man Out Of Servitude, Into Freedom.

Every Human Heart Is Human.

Life Is Real! Life Is Earnest! And The Grave Is Not Its Goal; Dust Thou Art, To Dust Returnest, Was Not Spoken Of The Soul.

Magnificent Autumn! He Comes Not Like A Pilgrim, Clad In Russet Weeds; Not Like A Hermit, Clad In Gray; But Like A Warrior With The Stain Of Blood In His Brazen Mail.

How In The Turmoil Of Life Can Love Stand, Where There Is Not One Heart, And One Mouth And One Hand.