His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I 'm sure, was in the right.

We spent them not in toys, in lusts, or wine, But search of deep philosophy, Wit, eloquence, and poetry; Arts which I lov'd, for they, my friend, were thine.

The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again; The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair.

His time is forever, everywhere his place.

There seems to be a terrible misunderstanding on the part of a great many people to the effect that when you cease to believe you may cease to behave.

What we think, or what we know, or what we believe is, in the end, of little consequence. The only consequence is what we do.

Nonviolence is the first article of my faith. It is also the last article of my creed.