Thou Large-brain'd Woman And Large-hearted Man.

I Remember, When I Was A Child And Wrote Poems In Little Clasped Books, I Used To Kiss The Books And Put Them Away Tenderly Because I Had Been Happy Near Them, And Take Them Out By Turns When I Was Going From Home, To Cheer Them By The Change Of Air And The Pleasure Of The New Place. This, Not For The Sake Of The Verses Written In Them, And Not For The Sake Of Writing More Verses In Them, But From Pure Gratitude.

Free Men Freely Work: Whoever Fears God, Fears To Sit At Ease.

No Man Can Be Called Friendless Who Has God And The Companionship Of Good Books.

And Each Man Stands With His Face In The Light. Of His Own Drawn Sword, Ready To Do What A Hero Can.

For 'tis Not In Mere Death That Men Die Most.