Among the noblest in the land – Though man may count himself the least – That man I honor and revere, Who without favor, without fear, In the great city dares to stand, The friend of every friendless beast.
And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives.
It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought! Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery; we build where monsters used to hide themselves.
As turning the logs will make a dull fire burn, so change of studies a dull brain.
The men that women marry, And why they marry them, will always be A marvel and a mystery to the world.
At first laying down, as a fact fundamental, That nothing with God can be accidental.
A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense, more accomplishments than learning, more charms not person than graces of mind, more admirers than friends, mole fools than wise men for attendants.
None but yourself who are your greatest foe.
Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies.
What else remains for me? Youth, hope and love; To build a new life on a ruined life.
Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden.
Ambition’s cradle oftenest is its grave.
Great men stand like solitary towers in the city of God.
Every human heart is human.
Be noble in every thought And in every deed!
Even cities have their graves!
Shepherds at the grange, Where the Babe was born, Sang with many a change, Christmas carols until morn.
Nothing is or can be accidental with God.
I see, but cannot reach, the height That lies forever in the light.
Oh, what a glory doth this world put on, for him who with a fervent heart goes forth under the bright and glorious sky, and looks on duties well performed, and days well spent.