"How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its ro..." — William Wordsworth

But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.

Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.

What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.

Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more.