Make Not Thyself The Judge Of Any

The Story, From Beginning To End, I Found Again In A Heart Of A Friend.

What Is Time? The Shadow On The Dial, The Striking Of The Clock, The Running Of The Sand, Day And Night, Summer And Winter, Months, Years, Centuries-these Are But Arbitrary And Outward Signs, The Measure Of Time, Not Time Itself. Time Is The Life Of The Soul.

The Thoughts Of Youth Are Long, Long Thoughts

And The Bright Faces Of My Young Companions Are Wrinkled Like My Own, Or Are No More.

There's Not A Ship That Sails The Ocean, But Every Climate, Every Soil, Must Bring Its Tribute, Great Or Small, And Help To Build The Wooden Wall!