What Do I Owe My Father? Everything!

Not To The Swift, The Race: Not To The Strong, The Fight: Not To The Righteous, Perfect Grace: Not To The Wise, The Light. But Often Faltering Feet Come Surest To The Goal; And They Who Walk In Darkness Meet The Sunrise Of The Soul.

Natural Beauty And Wonder Are Priceless Heirlooms Which God Has Bestowed Upon Our Nation. How Shall We Escape The Contempt Of The Coming Generation If We Suffer This Irreplaceable Heritage To Be Wasted?

You May Have To Live In A Crowd, But You Do Not Have To Live Like It.

I Heard Through The Nightthe Rush And The Clamour;the Pulse Of The Fightlike Blows Of Thor's Hammer;the Pattering Flightof The Leaves, And The Anguishedmoan Of The Forest Vanquished.

Thou Warden Of The Western Gate, Above Manhattan Bay, The Fogs Of Doubt That Hid Thy Face Are Driven Clean Away: Thine Eyes At Last Look Far And Clear, Thou Liftest High Thy Hand To Spread The Light Of Liberty World-wide For Every Land.