Life Seems A Jest Of Fate's Contriving.

Love Lives On, And Hath A Power To Bless When They Who Loved Are Hidden In The Grave.

Ah, Men Do Not Know How Much Strength Is In Poise, That He Goes The Farthest Who Goes Far Enough.

Life Is Constantly Weighing Us In Very Sensitive Scales, And Telling Every One Of Us Precisely What His Real Weight Is To The Last Grain Of Dust.

The Nurse Of Full-grown Souls Is Solitude.

They Are Slaves Who Fear To Speak, For The Fallen And The Weak.