The Natural Alone Is Permanent.

It Is Difficult To Know At What Moment Love Begins; It Is Less Difficult To Know That It Has Begun.

Ah, To Build, To Build! That Is The Noblest Of All The Arts.

Where Should The Scholar Live? In Solitude, Or In Society? In The Green Stillness Of The Country, Where He Can Hear The Heart Of Nature Beat, Or In The Dark, Gray Town Where He Can Hear And Feel The Throbbing Heart Of Man?

I Have You Fast In My Fortress, And Will Not Let You Depart, But Put You Down Into The Dungeon, In The Round-tower Of My Heart, And There Will I Keep You Forever, Yes, Forever And A Day, Till The Walls Shall Crumble To Ruin, And Moulder In The Dust Away!

Each New Epoch In Life Seems An Encounter. There Is A Tussle And A Cloud Of Dust, And We Come Out Of It Triumphant Or Crest-fallen, According As We Have Borne Ourselves.