Hope Is A Working-man's Dream.

Indeed, What Is There That Does Not Appear Marvelous When It Comes To Our Knowledge For The First Time? How Many Things, Too, Are Looked Up On As Quite Impossible Until They Have Been Actually Effected?

All Men Possess In Their Bodies A Poison Which Acts Upon Serpents; And The Human Saliva, It Is Said, Makes Them Take To Flight, As Though They Had Been Touched With Boiling Water. The Same Substance, It Is Said, Destroys Them The Moment It Enters Their Throat.

Hope Is The Pillar That Holds Up The World. Hope Is The Dream Of A Waking Man.

Let Not Things, Because They Are Common, Enjoy For That The Less Share Of Our Consideration.

There Is In Them A Softer Fire Than The Ruby, There Is The Brilliant Purple Of The Amethyst, And The Sea Green Of The Emerald - All Shining Together In Incredible Union. Some By Their Splendor Rival The Colors Of The Painters, Others The Flame Of Burning Sulphur Or Of Fire Quickened By Oil.