With So Many Thousand Joys, Is It

No Heroine Can Create A Hero Through Love Of One, But She Can Give Birth To One

Nations And Men Are Only The Best When They Are The Gladdest, And Deserve Heaven When They Enjoy It.

The End We Aim At Must Be Known, Before The Way Can Be Made.

The Words That A Father Speaks To His Children In The Privacy Of Home Are Not Heard By The World, But, As In Whispering Galleries, They Are Clearly Heard At The End, And By Posterity.

He Thought Of The Mouldering Child, Which Laid Its Withered Thin Arms Around His Soul, As If It Were His Own, And To Whom Death Had Given As Much As A God Gave To Endymion, — Sleep, Eternal Youth, And Immortality.