The Arms Are Fair, When The Intent

And This, Our Life, Exempt From Public Haunt, Finds Tongues In Trees, Books In The Running Brooks, Sermons In Stones, And Good In Everything.

Let Each Man Do His Best.

Greatness Knows Itself.

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

But I Will Wear My Heart Upon My Sleeve For Daws To Peck At: I Am Not What I Am.