That In The Human Plan

He Fed His Spirit With The Bread Of Books

The Sequoias Belong To The Silences Of The Milleniums. Many Of Them Have Seen A Hundred Human Generations Rise, Give Off Their Little Clamors And Perish. They Seem Indeed To Be Forms Of Immortality Standing Here Amoing The Transitory Shapes Of Time.

In Vain We Build The City If We Do Not First Build The Man.

Only The Soul That Knows The Mighty Grief Can Know The Mighty Rapture. Sorrows Come To Stretch Out Spaces In The Heart For Joy.

Ah, Great It Is To Believe The Dream As We Stand In Youth By The Starry Stream; But A Greater Thing Is To Fight Life Through, And At The End, 'the Dream Is True!'