It Is Not The End Of Joy

Two Aged Men, That Had Been Foes For Life, Met By A Grave, And Wept - And In Those Tears They Washed Away The Memory Of Their Strife; Then Wept Again The Loss Of All Those Years.

Joy Descends Gently Upon Us Like The Evening Dew, And Does Not Patter Down Like A Hailstorm.

If Self-knowledge Is The Road To Virtue, So Is Virtue Still More The Road To Self-knowledge.

The Look Of A King Is Itself A Deed.

Strong Characters Are Brought Out By Change Of Situation, And Gentle Ones By Permanence.