Sometimes we may learn more from a man’s errors than from his virtues.
The critics are sentinels in the grand army of letters.
Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, That is known as the Children’s Hour.
Not in the clamour of the crowded street, Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Art is long and time is fleeting.
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
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