Luck Is The Residue Of Design.

What Call Thou Solitude? Is Not The Earth With Various Living Creatures, And The Air Replenished, And All These At Thy Command To Come And Play Before Thee?

The Leaf Was Darkish, And Had Prickles On It, But In Another Country, As He Said, Bore A Bright Golden Flow'r, But Not In This Soil; Unknown, And Like Esteem'd, And The Dull Swain Treads On It Daily With His Clouted Shoon.

Beyond Is All Abyss, Eternity, Whose End No Eye Can Reach.

Danger Will Wink On Opportunity.

Freely We Serve, Because Freely We Love.