He Who Is Not Master Of His

A Day Will Come When There Will Be No Battlefields, But Markets Opening To Commerce And Minds Opening To Ideas.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.

The Soul Has Greater Need Of The Ideal Than Of The Real

Our Life Dreams The Utopia. Our Death Achieves The Ideal.

Youth, Even In Its Sorrows, Always Has A Brilliancy Of Its Own.