The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits;- on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.

And each day brings it's pretty dust, Our soon-choked souls to fll And we forget because we must, And not because we will.

It is almost impossible to exaggerate the proneness of the human mind to take miracles as evidence, and to seek for miracles as evidence.

To have the sense of creative activity is the great happiness and the great proof of being alive.

Nature, with equal mind, Sees all her sons at play, Sees man control the wind, The wind sweep man away.

Culture, the acquainting ourselves with the best that has been known and said in the world, and thus with the history of the human spirit.