He had mittens, Minjekahwun, Magic mittens made of deer-skin; When upon his hands he wore them, He could smite the rocks asunder, He could grind them into powder |
He seemed the incarnate `Well, I told you so!' |
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels |
He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce. |
Heights by great men reached and kept were not obtained by sudden flight but, while their companions slept, they were toiling upward in the night. |
His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can; And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man |
Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king |
How beautiful is youth! how bright it gleams with its illusions, aspirations, dreams! Book of Beginnings, Story without End, Each maid a heroine, and each man a friend! |
However things may seem, no evil thing is success and no good thing is failure. |
I feel a kind of reverence for the first books of young authors. There is so much aspiration in them, so much audacious hope and trembling fear, so much of the heart's history, that all errors and shortcomings are for a while lost sight of in the amiable self assertion of youth. |
I guess when your heart gets broken you sort of start to see cracks in everything. I'm convinced that tragedy wants to harden us and our mission is never to let it. |
I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets. |
I hear in the chamber above me / The patter of little feet. |
I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men! |
I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men! |