No Man Is So Poor As To

Much Must He Toil Who Serves The Immortal Gods.

Welcome, Disappointment! Thy Hand Is Cold And Hard, But It Is The Hand Of A Friend. Thy Voice Is Stern And Harsh, But It Is The Voice Of A Friend. Oh, There Is Something Sublime In Calm Endurance, Something Sublime In The Resolute, Fixed Purpose Of Suffering Without Complaining, Which Makes Disappointment Oftentimes Better Than Success!

Like A French Poem Is Life; Being Only Perfect In Structure When With The Masculine Rhymes Mingled The Feminine Are.

No Man Is So Poor As To Have Nothing Worth Giving.

There Are Things Of Which I May Not Speak; There Are Dreams That Cannot Die; There Are Thoughts That Make The Strong Heart Weak, And Bring A Pallor Into The Cheek, And A Mist Before The Eye.