A Man's Perfection Is His Work.

In Our Wide World There Is But One Altogether Fatal Personage, The Dunce,--he That Speaks Irrationally, That Sees Not, And Yet Thinks He Sees.

May Blessings Be Upon The Head Of Cadmus, The Phoenicians, Or Whoever It Was That Invented Books.

All Evil Is Like A Nightmare; The Instant You Stir Under It, The Evil Is Gone.

On The Whole, I Would Bid You Stand Up To Your Work, Whatever It May Be, And Not Be Afraid Of It; Not In Sorrows Or Contradictions To Yield, But To Push On Towards The Goal.

The Grand Result Of Schooling Is A Mind With Just Vision To Discern, With Free Force To Do: The Grand Schoolmaster Is Practice.