The Present Is The Living Sum-total Of

It Is A Fact Which Escapes No One, That, Generally Speaking, Whoso Is Acquainted With His Worth Has But A Little Stock To Cultivate Acquaintance With.

A Poor Creature Who Has Said Or Done Nothing Worth A Serious Man Taking The Trouble Of Remembering.

Poetry Is The Attempt Which Man Makes To Render His Existence Harmonious.

A Battle Is A Terrible Conjugation Of The Verb To Kill: I Kill, Thou Killest, He Kills, We Kill, They Kill, All Kill.

On The Whole, I Would Bid You Stand Up To Your Work, Whatever It May Be, And Not Be Afraid Of It; Not In Sorrows Or Contradictions To Yield, But To Push On Towards The Goal.