Though the past haunt me as a spirit, I do not ask to forget.

There is in all this cold and hollow world, No fount of deep, strong,deathless love ;save that within a mother's heart

Gird your hearts with silent fortitude, Suffering, yet hoping all things.

Oh, call my brother back to me!I cannot play alone:The summer comes with flower and bee,-Where is my brother gone?

There’s beauty all around our paths, If but our watchful eyes Can trace it ’midst familiar things, And through their lowly guise.

What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine, The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine.

We pine for kindred natures To mingle with our own.

Passing away" is written on the world and all the world contains.

Oh! lovely voices of the sky Which hymned the Saviour's birth, Are ye not singing still on high, Ye that sang, "Peace on earth"?

There is strength deep bedded in our hearts, of which we reck but little till the shafts of heaven have pierced its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent before her gems are found?

Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod, They have left unstained, what there they found,- Freedom to worship God.

Perfect study is the key to being effective in the land of your calling

Kill every enemy twice, Wilky said. Better than gettin' shot by a soldier pretending to be dead.

Perhaps the so-called civilized world was a great noisy burden beneath all its wonders, and it was a relief to let go of it for a while.

Very few people do this any more. It's too risky. First of all, it's a hell of a responsibility to be yourself. It's much easier to be somebody else or nobody at all.

Every philosophy is tinged with the coloring of some secret imaginative background, which never emerges explicitly into its train of reasoning.

And part of that is, what is the point of having children if you don't have the privilege of bringing them up?

I can recite poetry, but I cannot write it.

Conciliation is not capitulation, nor is compromise to be deemed equivalent to imbalanced concession.

As it acts in the world, the Tao is like the bending of a bow. The top is bent downward; the bottom is bent up. It adjusts excess and deficiency so that there is perfect balance.

It's been said racing encompasses hours of agony and moments of glory. But moments like the 1978 Triple Crown inspire the pursuit of greatness.