Life, To Be Sure, Is Nothing Much

Give Me A Land Of Boughs In Leaf A Land Of Trees That Stand; Where Trees Are Fallen There Is Grief; I Love No Leafless Land.

Great Literature Should Do Some Good To The Reader: Must Quicken His Perception Though Dull, And Sharpen His Discrimination Though Blunt, And Mellow The Rawness Of His Personal Opinions.

The Troubles Of Our Proud And Angry Dust Are From Eternity, And Shall Not Fail. Bear Them We Can, And If We Can We Must. Shoulder The Sky, My Lad, And Drink Your Ale.

Earth And High Heaven Are Fixed Of Old And Founded Strong.

Luck's A Chance, But Trouble's Sure.