Our Hearts Are Lamps For Ever Burning.

Ye Are Better Than All The Ballads That Ever Were Sung Or Said; For Ye Are Living Poems, And All The Rest Are Dead.

Three Silences There Are: The First Of Speech, The Second Of Desire, The Third Of Thought.

Trouble Is The Next Best Thing To Enjoyment; There Is No Fate In The World So Horrible As To Have No Share In Either Its Joys Or Sorrows.

The Spring Came Suddenly, Bursting Upon The World As A Child Bursts Into A Room, With A Laugh And A Shout And Hands Full Of Flowers.

Listen My Children And You Shall Hear, Of The Midnight Ride Of Paul Revere