History Repeats Itself In The Large Because

Grow Strong, My Comrade … That You May Stand Unshaken When I Fall; That I May Know The Shattered Fragments Of My Song Will Come At Last To Finer Melody In You; That I May Tell My Heart That You Begin Where Passing I Leave Off, And Fathom More.

History Seldom Destroys That Which Does Not Deserve To Die; And The Burning Of The Tares Makes For The Next Sowing A Richer Soil.

It Is True That Even Across The Himalayan Barrier India Has Sent To The West, Such Gifts As Grammar And Logic, Philosophy And Fables, Hypnotism And Chess, And Above All Numerals And The Decimal System.

We Are What We Repeatedly Do. Excellence, Then, Is Not An Act, But A Habit.

Knowledge That Does Not Generate Achievement Is A Pale And Bloodless Thing, Unworthy Of Mankind.