Vessels large may venture more, But little boats should keep near shore. Franklin: Poor Richard. When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model: What do we then but draw anew the model To build at all? Shakespeare: 2 Henry IV. By slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Tennyson: Ulysses. Quiet, Rest; see Calmness, Contentment, and Peace. Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, Rest is not quitting The busy career; Rest is the fitting Of self to its sphere. Clear without strife, Fleeing to ocean After its life. Keats: Hyperion. Deeper devotion Nowhere hath knelt; Heart never felt. The highest and best; And that is true rest. John Sullivan Dwight. Reason; see Character and Wisdom. Mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth. There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl, Pope. Who reasons wisely, is not therefore wise, Pope: Moral Essays. I have no other but a woman's reason; I would make Reason my guide. Bryant. Reason progressive, instinct is complete; Could know, or do, or covet, or enjoy. Young: Night Thoughts. Rebellion; see Loyalty and Patriotism. How in one house Should many people, under two commands, Shakespeare: King Lear. Contention, like a horse Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, And bears down all before him. Shakespeare: 2 Henry IV. From hence, let fierce contending nations know Addison: Cato. One drop of blood, drawn from thy country's bosom, gore: Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears, Shakespeare: 1 Henry VI. Regret; see Memory and Melancholy. For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: "It might have been! " Whittier: Maud Muller. Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned On lips that are for others; deep as love, Religion; see Deity and Prayer. In Religion What damned error, but some sober brow Shakespeare: Merchant of Venice. Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side Whate'er I may have been, or am, doth rest between Invisible and silent stands Byron: Manfred. The temple never made with hands. Whittier: The Meeting. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds. Tennyson: In Memoriam. A picket frozen on duty, A mother starved for her brood, Socrates drinking the hemlock, And Jesus on the rood; And millions who humble and nameless The straight hard pathway trod, Some call it consecration, And others call it God. William Herbert Carruth. Repentance; see Conscience, Forgiveness, Regret, and For what is true repentance but in thought— Tennyson: Guinevere. Who by repentance is not satisfied Is not of heaven nor earth; for these are pleased; High minds, of native pride and force, Scott: Marmion. Remorse is as the heart in which it grows, Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, Coleridge: Remorse. Habitual evils seldom change too soon, But many days must pass, and many sorrows; |