To Genius Life Never Grows Commonplace.

Joy Comes, Grief Goes, We Know Not How.

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

To Have Greatly Dreamed Precludes Low Ends.

It Is Only The Intellect That Can Be Thoroughly And Hideously Wicked. It Can Forget Everything In The Attainment Of Its Ends. The Heart Recoils; In Its Retired Some Drops Of Childhood's Dew Still Linger, Defying Manhood's Fiery Noon.

He's True To God Who's True To Man.