Lincoln, the Man of the People.
The thing that is incredible is life itself. Why should we be here in this sun-illuminated universe? Why should there be green earth under our feet?
He fed his spirit with the bread of books.
For all your days be prepared, and meet them ever alike. When you are the anvil, bear – when you are the hammer, strike.
Mr. Rihani is a man of ardent poetic temperament, a clever poet, and a man of unworldly ideals.
There is no true liberty for the individual except as he finds it in the liberty of all. There is no true security for the individual except as he finds it in the security for all.
Here is the Truth in a little creed, Enough for all the roads we go: In Love is all the law we need, In Christ is all the God we know.
By a divine paradox, wherever there is one slave there are two.
At the heart of the cyclone tearing the sky And flinging the cloud and the towers by, Is a place of central calm: So here in the roar of mortal things, I have a place where my spirit sings, In the hollow of God’s Palm.
I fear the vermin that shall undermineSenate and citadel and school and shrine.
By a divine paradox, wherever there is one slave there are two. So in the wonderful reciprocities of being, we can never reach the higher levels until all our fellows ascend with us.
The thing that is incredible is life itself.
Three were the fates. Poverty that chains; gray drudgery that grinds the hope away, and gaping ignorance that starves the soul.
In vain we build the city if we do not first build the man.
That in the human plan nothing is worth the making if it does not make the man.
Oft when the white, still dawn lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I have felt it like a glory in my heart.
Fight ever on: this earthly stuff If used God’s way will be enough. Face to the firing line o friend Fight out life’s battle to the end. One soldier, when the fight was red, Threw down his broken sword and fled. Another snatched it, won the day, With what his comrade flung away.
We are all blind until we see That in the human plan Nothing is worth the making If it does not make the man. Why build these cities glorious If man unbuilded goes? We build the world in vain Unless the builders also grow.
At the heart of the cyclone tearing the sky is a place of central calm.
No soul can be forever banned, Eternally bereft, Whoever falls from God’s right hand Is caught into his left.