Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth; but actions are our epochs: mine Have made my days and nights imperishable Endless, and all alike, as sands on the shore Innumerable atoms; and one desert Barren and cold, on which the wild waves break, But nothing rests, save carcases and wrecks, Rocks, and the salt-surf weeds of bitterness.

But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar.

The heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old! The dead but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.

Mont Blanc is the Monarch of mountains; They crowned him long ago, On a throne of rocks - in a robe of clouds - With a Diadem of Snow.

But Argos can do without the house of Atreus. Ancient houses are not eternal.

'Norman Borlaug is the living embodiment of the human quest for a hunger free world. His life is his message.'

I think I have a good deal of my Uncle Theodore in me, because I could not, at any age, be content to take my place by the fireside and simply look on.