The Greatest Homage We Can Pay To

To Make The Common Marvelous Is The Test Of Genius.

One Day With Life And Heart Is More Than Time Enough To Find A World.

Our Seasons Have No Fixed Returns, Without Our Will They Come And Go; At Noon Our Sudden Summer Burns, Ere Sunset All Is Snow.

The Wisest Man Could Ask No More Of Fate Than To Be Simple, Modest, Manly, True, Safe From The Many, Honored By The Few; Nothing To Court In Church, Or World, Or State, But Inwardly In Secret To Be Great.

The Don Quixote Of One Generation May Live To Hear Himself Called The Savior Of Society By The Next.