Sincerity Is Impossible, Unless It Pervade The

True Love Is But A Humble, Low Born Thing, And Hath Its Food Served Up In Earthenware; It Is A Thing To Walk With, Hand In Hand, Through The Every-dayness Of This Workday World.

Fate Loves Best Such Syllables As Are Sweet And Sonorous On The Tongue.

And What They Dare To Dream Of, Date To Do.

A Great Part Of Human Suffering Has Its Root In The Nature Of Man, And Not In That Of His Institutions.

O Visionary World, Condition Strange, Where Naught Abiding Is But Only Change.