The Colleges, While They Provide Us With

Earth Laughs In Flowers.

Character Is Always Known. Thefts Never Enrich; Alms Never Impoverish; Murder Will Speak Out Of Stone Walls.

What We Love That We Have, But By Desire We Bereave Ourselves Of The Love.

Every Man Is A Quotation From All His Ancestors.

The Masters Painted For Joy, And Knew Not That Virtue Had Gone Out Of Them. They Could Not Paint The Like In Cold Blood. The Masters Of English Lyric Wrote Their Songs So. It Was A Fine Efflorescence Of Fine Powers.