Whatever Tears One May Shed, In The

The Spring's Already At The Gate With Looks My Care Beguiling; The Country Round Appeareth Straight A Flower-garden Smiling.

The Great Pulsation Of Nature Beats Too In My Breast, And When I Carol Aloud, I Am Answered By A Thousand-fold Echo. I Hear A Thousand Nightingales. Spring Hath Sent Them To Awaken Earth From Her Morning Slumber, And Earth Trembles With Ecstasy, Her Flowers Are Hymns, Which She Sings In Inspiration To The Sun.

I Have Never Seen An Ass Who Talked Like A Human Being, But I Have Met Many Human Beings Who Talked Like Asses.

What Christian Love Cannot Do Is Effected By A Common Hatred.

Whether A Revolution Succeeds Or Fails People Of Great Hearts Will Always Be Sacrificed To It.