Not in the clamor of the crowded street Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng But in ourselves are triumph and defeat.
Noble souls through dust and heat rise from disaster and defeat the stronger.
Each morning sees some task begin each evening sees it close Something attempted something done has earned a night's repose.
Ah to build to build! That is the noblest of all the arts.
Trust no future howe'er pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act - act in the living Present! Heart within and God o'erhead.
The Children's HourBetween the dark and the daylight,When the night is beginning to lower,Comes a pause in the day's occupations,That is known as the Children's Hour.I hear in the chamber above meThe...
The world loves a spice of wickedness.
None but yourself who are your greatest foe.
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice,...
The heights by men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight But they while their companions slept Were toiling upward in the night.
I have you fast in my fortress,And will not let you depart,But put you down into the dungeon,In the round-tower of my heart,And there will I keep you forever,Yes, forever and a day,Till the walls shal...
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth That they might touch the hearts of men And bring them back to heaven again.
And the night shall be filled with music And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs And as silently steal away.
When Christ ascended Triumphantly from star to star He left the gates of Heaven ajar.
The bravest are the tenderest. The loving are the daring.
Think of your woods and orchards without birds!Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beamsAs in an idiot's brain remembered wordsHang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!
It takes less time to do a thing right, than it does to explain why you did it wrong.
The present is the blocks with which we build.
When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.