Not in the clamor of the crowded street, Not in the shouts and pl

The world loves a spice of wickedness.

How far the gulf-stream of our youth may flow Into the arctic reg

For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in anoth

When a great man dies, for years the light he leaves behind him,

If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find

Art is the child of Nature; yes, her darling child in whom we tra

The counterfeit and counterpart Of Nature reproduced in art.

In the world’s broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be

Write on your doors the saying wise and old. “Be bold!” and every