During seasons of great pestilence, men have often believed the prophecies of crazed fanatics, that the end of the world was come.
Under the leaves, amid the grass, lazily the day shall pass, yet not be wasted.—From my drowsy ease I borrow health and strength to bear my boat through the great life ocean.
Every age has its peculiar folly: Some scheme, project, or fantasy into which it plunges, spurred on by the love of gain, the necessity of excitement, or the force of imitation.
Water is the mother of the vine, The nurse and fountain of fecundity, The adorner and refresher of the world.
The smallest effort is not lost,
Each wavelet on the ocean tost
Aids in the ebb-tide or the flow;
Each rain-drop makes some floweret blow;
Each struggle lessens human woe.
Topics: Effort, One Step at a Time
There is no such thing as death. In nature nothing dies. From each sad remnant of decay, some forms of life arise so shall his life be taken away before he knoweth that he hath it.
Topics: Death, Dying
You have no enemies, you say?
Alas, my friend, the boast is poor.
He who has mingled in the fray of duty
that the brave endure, must have made foes.
If you have none, small is the work that you have done.
You’ve hit no traitor on the hip.
You’ve dashed no cup from perjured lip.
You’ve never turned the wrong to right.
You’ve been a coward in the fight.
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