To Make The Common Marvelous

Endurance Is The Crowning Quality, And Patience All The Passion Of Great Hearts.

The Nurse Of Full-grown Souls Is Solitude.

No Price Is Set On The Lavish Summer; June May Be Had By The Poorest Comer.

O Thou, Whose Days Are Yet All Spring, Faith, Blighted Once, Is Past Retrieving; Experience Is A Dumb, Dead Thing; The Victory's In Believing.

In The Earliest Ages Science Was Poetry, As In The Later Poetry Has Become Science.