“...Tis the center to which all gravitates. One finds no rest elswhere than here. There may be other cities that please us for a while, but Rome alone completely satisfies. It becomes to all a second native land by predilection, and not by accident of birth alone.”

“Let us labor for an inward stillness--An inward stillness and an inward healing.That perfect silence where the lips and heartAre still, and we no longer entertainOur own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions,But God alone speaks to us and we waitIn singleness of heart that we may knowHis will, and in the silence of our spirits,That we may do His will and do that only”

“Ye are better than all the balladsThat ever were sung or said;For ye are living poems,And all the rest are dead.”

“With favoring winds, o'er sunlit seas,We sailed for the Hesperides,The land where golden apples grow;But that, ah! that was long ago.How far, since then, the ocean streamsHave swept us from that land of dreams,That land of fiction and of truth,The lost Atlantis of our youth!Whither, ah, whither? Are not theseThe tempest-haunted Orcades,Where sea-gulls scream, and breakers roar,And wreck and sea-weed line the shore?Ultima Thule! Utmost Isle!Here in thy harbors for a whileWe lower our sails; a while we restFrom the unending, endless quest.”

“We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.”

“One if by land, two if by sea.”

“Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping.Under the humble walls of the little catholic churchyard,In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed;Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them,Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever,Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy,Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors,Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey!”