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The thing we long for, that we areFor one transcendent moment.
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Good luck is the willing handmaid of a upright and energetic character, and conscientious observance of duty.
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Soft-heartedness, in times like these,Shows sof'ness in the upper story.
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It is the privilege of genius that life never grows common place, as it does for the rest of us.
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Democracy gives every man the right to be his own oppressor.
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Light is the symbol of truth.
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The child is not mine as the first was,I cannot sing it to rest,I cannot lift it up fatherlyAnd bliss it upon my breast;Yet it lies in my little one's cradleAnd sits in my little one's chair,And the light of the heaven she's gone toTransfigures its golden hair.
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Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
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You've gut to git up airlyEf you want to take in God.
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One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning.
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Let us be of good cheer, however, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come.
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A weed is no more than a flower in disguise, Which is seen through at once, if love give a man eyes.
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In vain we call old notions fudge,And bend our conscience to our dealing;The Ten Commandments will not budge,And stealing will continue stealing.
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Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man;He’s ben on all sides thet give places or pelf;But consistency still wuz a part of his plan,-He’s ben true to one party, an’ thet is himself.
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The only faith that wears well and holds its color in all weathers is that which is woven of conviction and set with the sharp mordant of experience.
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For though he builds glorious temples, 'tis oddHe leaves never a doorway to get in a god.
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Compromise makes a good umbrella, but a poor roof; it is temporary expedient, often wise in party politics, almost sure to be unwise in statesmanship.
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There is no better ballast for keeping the mind steady on its keel, and saving it from all risk of crankiness, than business.
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Not failure, but low aim, is crime.
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And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days.
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There is no work of genius which has not been the delight of mankind, no word of genius to which the human heart and soul have not sooner or later responded.
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The traitor to humanity is the traitor most accursed;Man is more than Constitutions; better rot beneath the sod,Than to be true to Church and State while we are doubly false to God!
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Who's not sat tense before his own heart's curtain.
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God, give us Peace! not such as lulls to sleep,But sword on thigh and brow with purpose knit!And let our Ship of State to harbor sweep,Her ports all up, her battle lanterns lit,And her leashed thunders gathering for their leap.