Music Is The Poor Man's Parnassus.

The Soul Knows Only The Soul; The Web Of Events Is The Flowing Robe In Which She Is Clothed.

The Only Compensation Which War Offers For Its Manifold Mischiefs, Is In The Great Personal Qualities To Which It Gives Scope And Occasion.

It Is God In You That Responds To God Without, Or Affirms His Own Words Trembling On The Lips Of Another.

That Which We Do Not Call Education Is More Precious Than That Which We Call So.

Let Us Not Forget The Genial Miraculous Force We Have Known To Proceed From A Book.