Pin Thy Faith To No Man's Sleeve.

All Work, Even Cotton-spinning, Is Noble; Work Is Alone Noble.

The Crash Of The Whole Solar And Stellar Systems Could Only Kill You Once.

Whose School-hours Are All The Days And Nights Of Our Existence.

In The Poorest Cottage Are Books: Is One Book, Wherein For Several Thousands Of Years The Spirit Of Man Has Found Light, And Nourishment, And An Interpreting Response To Whatever Is Deepest In Him.

Force, Force, Everywhere Force; We Ourselves A Mysterious Force In The Centre Of That. "there Is Not A Leaf Rotting On The Highway But Has Force In It: How Else Could It Rot?" [as Used In His Time, By The Word Force, Carlyle Means Energy.]