Fortune Comes Well To All That Comes

Take Them, O Death! And Bear Away Whatever Thou Canst Call Thine Own! Thine Image, Stamped Upon This Clay, Doth Give Thee That, But That Alone!

The Air Is Full Of Farewells To The Dying. And Mournings For The Dead.

If We Could Read The Secret History Of Our Enemies.

The Student Has His Rome, His Florence, His Whole Glowing Italy, Within The Four Walls Of His Library. He Has In His Books The Ruins Of An Antique World And The Glories Of A Modern One.

The Secret Anniversaries Of The Heart.