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It is not growing like a tree

In bulk, doth make man better be;

Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald and sear:
A lily of a day

Is fairer far in May,

Although it fall and die that night,—
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.

-Ben Jonson

We find in life exactly what we put in it.

Duty done is the soul's fireside.

-Emerson.

-Browning.

Can a man help imitating that with which he holds reverential converse?

-Plato.

Discretion of speech is more than eloquence.

-Bacon.

Is anything more wonderful than another, if you consider it maturely? I have seen no man rise from the dead; I have seen some thousands rise from nothing. I have not force to fly into the sun, but I have force to lift my hand, which is equally strange.

-Carlyle.

As you grow ready for it, somewhere or other you will find what is needful for you, in a book, or a friend, or, best of all, in your own thoughts, the eternal thought speaking in your thought.

-George Macdonald.

A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body.

-Margaret Fuller Ossoli.

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Manners are the happy ways of doing things. If they are superficial, so are the dewdrops, which give such a depth to the morning meadow.

-Emerson.

A higher morality, like a higher intelligence, must be reached by a slow growth. -Herbert Spencer.

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds

sang west,

And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness,

Round our restlessness, His rest.

Then wisely weigh

-Mrs. Browning.

Our sorrow with our comfort.

Books are embalmed minds.

-The Tempest.

-Bovee.

Great men seem to be a part of the infinite, brothers of the mountains and the seas. -Ingersoll.

"Truth can be outraged by silence quite as cruelly as by speech."

It was a dark, chill, misty morning, like to end in rain; one of those mornings when even happy people take refuge in their hopes. -George Eliot.

Habit is a cable; we weave a thread of it every day, and at last we cannot break it. -Horace Mann.

The wisest man could ask no more of fate
Than to be simple, modest, manly, true,
Safe from the many, honored by the few ;
Nothing to court in Church, or World, or State,
But inwardly in secret to be great.

-Lowell.

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