“Art is long, and Time is fleeting,And our hearts, though stout and brave,Still, like muffled drums, are beatingFuneral marches to the grave.”

“A Psalm of LifeTell me not in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers,And things are not what they seem.Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not its goal;Dust thou are, to dust thou returnest,Was not spoken of the soul.Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our destined end or way;But to act, that each tomorrowFind us farther than today.Art is long, and Time is fleeting,And our hearts, though stout and brave,Still, like muffled drums, are beatingFuneral marches to the grave.In the world's broad field of battle,In the bivouac of Life,Be not like dumb, driven cattle!Be a hero in the strife!Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!Let the dead Past bury its dead!Act, - act in the living Present!Heart within, and God o'erhead!Lives of great men all remind usWe can make our lives sublime,And, departing, leave behind usFootprintson the sand of time;Footprints, that perhaps another,Sailing o'er life's solenm main,A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,Seeing, shall take heart again.Let us then be up and doing,With a heart for any fate;Still achieving, still pursuing,Learn to labor and to wait.”

“Art is long, and Time is fleeting.”

“Our ingress into the world was naked and bare; our progress through the world is trouble and care; our egress from the world will be nobody knows where; but if we do well here we shall do well there.”

“It takes less time to do a thing right than to explain why you did it wrong.”

“For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.”

“Life is still an unfolding,the farther we travel the more truth we can comprehend, and to understand the things that are at our door is the best preparation for understanding those that lie beyond.”