Look to this day!
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your existence.
    The bliss of growth.
    The glory of action.
    The splendor of achievement.
For yesterday is but a dream.
And tomorrow is only a vision.
But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore to this day!
     --Kalidasa (IVth century CE)
          (translated from Sanskrit)
          this is probably the first quote I collected and saved, after
          hearing adventurer John Goddard (born 1925) use it in a lecture
          at my High School c.1962

He who knows, doubts;
He who knows not, believes.
The philosopher is the pessimist;
The fool is the optimist.
The dreamer is stoned;
The tyrant is applauded --
Thus it is in life.
The youth fears that he will regret;
The old man regrets he feared.
The maiden dreams of the godlike lover;
The matron finds him -- Death.
Humanity has its cities
Where men go to live -- but die;
Nature has its deserts
Where men go to die -- but live;
Life is a paradox.
     --Arthur Flakoll (born late XIXth century)
          published in Anthony Wons (Editor). Tony's Scrap Book: 1932-33 Edition.
          Chicago: Reilly & Lee Company, 1932, p.52

Knowledge may be gained from books; but the love of knowledge is
transmitted only by personal contact. No one has deserved better of the
republic than the unknown teacher.
     --Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933)
          Phi Beta Kappa address delivered at the College of William and Mary,
          Saturday, 27 November 1926; reprinted in Journal of Chemical Education,
          7(2), February 1930, p.348

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings -- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!
     --Rudyard Kipling [Joseph Rudyard Kipling](1865-1936)
          Rewards and Fairies. Garden City NY: Doubleday, Page & Co., 1911

Hurry the baby as fast as you can,
Hurry him, worry him, make him a man.
Off with his baby clothes, get him in pants,
Feed him on brain foods and make him advance.
Hustle him, soon as he's able to walk,
Into a grammar school; cram him with talk.
Fill his poor head full of figures and facts,
Keep on a-jamming them in till it cracks.
Once boys grew up at a rational rate,
Now we develop a man while you wait,
Rush him through college, compel him to grab
Of every known subject a dip and a dab.
Get him in business and after the cash,
All by the time he can grow a mustache.
Let him forget he was ever a boy,
Make gold his god and its jingle his joy.
Keep him a-hustling and clear out of breath,
Until he wins -- nervous prostration and death.
     --Nixon Waterman (1859-1944)

Tell me why you are crying my son,
I know you're frightened like everyone.
Is it the thunder in the distance you fear?
Will it help if I stay very near?
I am here.

Chorus:
And if you take my hand my son,
All will be well when the day is done.
And if you take my hand my son,
All will be well when the day is done.
Day is done, Day is done.
Day is done, Day is done.

Do you ask why I'm sighing my son?
You shall inherit what mankind has done.
In a world filled with sorrow and woe,
If you ask me why this is so,
I really don't know.

Chorus.

Tell me why you are smiling, my son,
Is there a secret you can tell everyone?
Do you know more than men who are wise?
Can you see what we all must disguise
Through your loving eyes?

Chorus.
     --Peter Yarrow (born 1938)
          member of the group Peter, Paul and Mary (1960s-1970s)
          from the album Peter, Paul and Mommy (1969)

Build me a son, oh, Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is
weak and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid. One who will be
proud and unbending in defeat but humble and gentle in victory.

A son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who
will know that to know himself, is the foundation stone of all true knowledge.

Rear him, I pray, not in the paths of ease and comfort but under the
stress and spur of difficulties and challenges. Here let him learn
to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clean, whose goal will be high.
A son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men.
One who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep. One who will
reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of
humor so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too
seriously; a touch of humility, so that he may always remember the
simplicity of true greatness; the open mind of true wisdom;
the meekness of true strength.

Then, I, his father, will dare in the sacred recesses of my own heart
to whisper, "I have not lived in vain".
     --Anonymous
          as published in Anthony Wons (Editor). Tony's Scrap Book: 1932-33 Edition.
          Chicago: Reilly & Lee Company, 1932, p.45
          usually credited to Gen. Douglas MacArthur (1880-1964) as a prayer
          written for his son, Arthur IV; MacArthur often quoted it in his speeches,
          including a famous one on 12 May 1962, when he addressed the corps of
          cadets at the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York,
          a speech in which he modified the "Prayer" to describe the
          attributes of the ideal soldier
          (keytlaw.com/f-4/general-macarthurs-duty-honor-country-speech/)

          Forms of this quote also have been attributed to Mark Twain;
          Rory Cochrane; Anon.; The Butthole Surfers ("Sweet Loaf"); and
          others. It was mentioned in The League of Gentlemen,
          Series 3 (2001), Episode 2 ("The One-Armed Man is King").
         

          Similar sentiments:
         

          Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time;
          it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.
              --Sydney Smith (1771-1845)
         

          The follies which a man regrets most in his life, are those
          which he didn't commit when he had the opportunity.
              --Helen Rowland (1875-1950)

          The poem is adapted from a Quaker saying which appeared as early
          as the mid-1850s. One version of the original quote is:
          "I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good, therefore,
          that I can do, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it.
          For I shall not pass this way again."
              --often attributed to Stephen Grellet [Etienne de Grellet du Mabillier](1773-1855)
          a Quaker Missionary from France to the United States,
          though it does not appear in any of his printed writings;
          also sometimes attributed to William Penn (1644-1718) or
          Henry Drummond (1851-1897), or Sir Rowland Hill (1795-1879), or even the
          gravestone epitaph of Edward Courtenay, First Earl of Devon (died 1509)

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Here at our sea-washed sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide Welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
     --Emma Lazarus (1849-1887)

Be careful with that smile
for it seeps into your eyes
and love, innocent but not naïve,
pours over me
in a waterfall of whimsey
so I am drenched in tenderness

No, don't you be careful
but rather I shall be
lest I drown
in yearning for possession
of a waterfall
which can never be owned
but, by falling, is
     --June Goodwin (born mid-XXth century)

I do not choose to be a common man. It is my
right to be uncommon. I seek opportunity to
develop whatever talents God gave me . . . not
security. I do not wish to be a kept citizen,
humbled and dulled by having the state look after
me. I want to take the calculated risk; to dream
and to build; to fail and to succeed. I refuse to
barter incentive for a dole. I prefer the challenges
of life to the guaranteed existence; the thrill of
fulfillment to the stable calm of utopia. I will not
trade freedom for beneficience nor my dignity for a
handout. I will never cower before any earthly
master nor bend to any threat. It is my heritage to
stand erect, proud and unafraid; to think and act
myself, enjoy the benefit of my creations, and to
face the world boldly and say, - - - "This, with
God's help, I have done!" All this is what it means
to be an American.
     --Dean Alfange (1897-1989)

A foolish hermit closed his doors and said
    "I'll live a Godly life untouched by sin."
Alas! Who builds a wall about himself
    Shuts out much more of god than he shuts in.
     --James C. Lindberg (born late XIXth century)
          Adeline M. Jenney (Editor). Prairie Poets: An Anthology of Verse of the
          South Dakota State Poetry Society, 1927-1949. Minneapolis: Lund Press, 1949
          [credited as "J.C. Lindberg " in Anthony Wons. Tony's Scrap
          Book, 1932-33 Edition. Chicago: Reilly & Lee, 1932, p.36]

Loving people means summoning them forth
    with the loudest and most insistent of calls;
it means stirring up in them
        a mute and hidden being
        who can't help leaping at the sound of our voice --
    a being so new
        that even those who carried him didn't know him,
        and yet so authentic
        that they can't fail to recognize him
    once they discover him.

All love includes fatherhood and motherhood.
    To love someone is to bid him to live,
        invite him to grow.
Since people don't have the courage to mature
    unless someone has faith in them,
We have to reach those we meet
    at the level where they stopped developing,
        where they were given up as hopeless,
            and so withdrew into
            themselves
        and began to secrete
            a protective shell
        because they thought they were alone
            and no one cared.
They have to feel they're loved very deeply
        and very boldly
    before they dare appear humble and kind,
        affectionate, sincere
            and vulnerable.
     --Louis Evely (1910-1985)
          That Man is You. Ramsey NJ: Paulist Press, 1964

The man I am prefers the light
The deeds well brought to pass.
The boy I was made friends with night
Where mystery still was.

We dwell as one yet rarely meet
And when we meet oppose
Boy dreams, so often indiscreet
To man deeds won in prose.

We find our union makes for gain:
A vigor that resolves
Work into joy and peace from strain,
True love from lesser loves.
     --T. Morris Longstreth [Thomas Morris Longstreth](1886-1975)

Grant that I may not
criticize my neighbor
until I have walked a mile
in his moccasins.
     --Native American prayer

Who takes of Beauty wine and daily bread,
Will know no lack when bitter years are lean;
The brimming cup is by, the feast is spread;
The sun and moon and stars his eyes have seen,
Are for his hunger and the thirst he slakes:
The wine of Beauty and the bread he breaks.
     --David Morton (1886-1957)

Alt solo:

O Mensch! Gib Acht!
Was spricht die tiefe Mitternacht?
'Ich schlief, ich schlief --,
aus tiefem Traum bin ich erwacht: --
Die Welt ist tief,
und tiefer als der Tag gedacht.
Tief ist ihr Weh -- ,
Lust -- tiefer noch als Herzeleid.
Weh spricht: Vergeh!
Doch all' Lust will Ewigkeit -- ,
  -- will tiefe, tiefe Ewigkeit!'

O Man! Take heed!
What does the deep midnight say?
'I slept, I slept!
I have awakened from a deep dream.
The world is deep,
and deeper than the day remembers.
Deep is its suffering.
Joy is deeper yet than heartache!
Suffering says: Begone!
All joys want eternity,
want deep, deep eternity!'
     --Friedrich Nietzsche [Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche](1844-1900)
          Also Sprach Zarathustra, IV:79(12), "Noch einmal"
          ["Once Again", also known as "Midnight Song"],
          which Nietzsche also uses in Zarathustra III:59(3), part of
          "The Second Dance Song"; above as set by Gustav Mahler
          (1860-1911), Symphony III (completed in 1896), Fourth Movement,
          Sehr langsam. Miserioso; English translation by Robert Cushman

Alt solo

O Röschen rot,
Der Mensch liegt in größter Not,
Der Mensch liegt in größter Pein,
Je lieber möcht ich im Himmel sein,
Da kam ich auf einen breiten Weg,
Da kam ein Engelein und wollt mich abweisen,
Ach nein! Ich ließ mich nicht abweisen.
Ich bin von Gott, ich will wieder zu Gott!
Der liebe Gott wird mir ein Lichtchen geben,
wird leuchten mir bis in das ewig selig Leben.

Oh red rose!
Man lies in deepest need,
Man lies in deepest pain.
Yes, I would rather be in heaven!
I came upon a broad pathway:
An angel came and wanted to send me away.
Ah no! I would not be sent away!
I am from God and will return to God.
The dear God will give me a light,
Will light me to eternal blessed life!
     --Des Knaben Wunderhorn [The Youth's Magic Horn],
          Zweiter Teil [Part Two], Munchen: Winkler Verlag, 1806/1984, p.297
          Fourth Movement, Sehr feierlich, aber schlicht, from Gustav Mahler
          (1860-1911), Symphony II (1895); English translation by
          Deryck Cooke (1919-1976)

Oh that I had the wings of a dove
  to fly away and be at rest!
I should escape far away
    and find a refuge in the wilderness.
     --Psalm LV:1-7, New English Bible
          An alternate translation of this passage was set to music by
          Felix Mendelssohn [Jakob Ludwig Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy](1809-1847)
          in his often-recorded anthem "Hear My Prayer",
          perhaps the earliest and most famous recording being the 1927 HMV recording
          by Ernest Lough with the Temple Church Choir

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you
    cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows
    are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He
    bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also
    the bow that is stable.
     --Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931)
          The Prophet. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1923, pp.17-18

I pray that I may let my child live his own life,
and not the one I wish I had lived. Therefore,
guard me against burdening him with doing what
I failed to do.

Help me to see his missteps today in perspective
against the long road he must go, and grant me
the grace of patience with his slow pace.

Give me the wisdom to know when to smile
at the small mischiefs of his age and when to
give him the haven of firmness against the impulses
which he fears and cannot handle.

Help me to hear the anguish in his heart through
the din of angry words or across the gulf of
brooding silence, and having heard, give me the
grace to bridge the gap between us with
understanding warmth.

I pray that I may raise my voice more in joy at
what he is, than vexation at what he has done; so
that each day [he] may grow in his sureness of himself.

Help me to hold him with a warmth that will give
him friendliness towrads other[s]; then give me
the fortitude to free him to go strongly on his way.
     --Durfee
          (first name[s] unknown), Fellowship in Prayer

I pray that I may let my child live his own
life and not the one I wish I had lived.
Therefore, guard me against burdening him
with doing what I failed to do.

Help me to see his missteps today in perspective
against the long road he must travel and grant me
the grace to be patient with his slow pace.

Give me the wisdom to know when to smile at
the small mischief of his age and
when to show firmness against the impulses
that he fears and cannot handle.

Help me to hear the anguish in his heart
through the din of angry words or across
the gulf of brooding silence. And having
heard, grant me the ability to bridge the gap
between us, with understanding.

I pray that I may raise my voice more in
joy at what he is, than vexation at what he
is not, so that each day we [he?] may grow in
sureness of himself.

Help me regard him with genuine affection
so he will feel affection for others.
Then give me the strength, Lord, to free
him so he can move strongly on his way.
     --author unknown

variants:

If I am not for me, who will be?
But if I am only for myself, what am I?
    --Hillel

If I am not me, who am I?

My views . . . are the result of a life of inquiry and reflection.
. . . To the corruptions of Christianity I am, indeed, opposed; but
not to the genuine precepts of Jesus himself. I am a Christian in the
only sense in which He wished any one to be; sincerely attached to his
doctrines, in preference to all others; ascribing to himself every
human excellence; & believing he never claimed any other.
    (Letter to Dr Benjamin Rush, 21 April 1803)

Among the sayings and discourses imputed to [Jesus] by his biographers,
I find many passages of fine imagination, correct morality, and of the
most lovely benevolence; and others, again, of so much ignorance, so
much absurdity, so much untruth, charlatanism and imposture. . . .
Of this band of dupes and impostors, [St] Paul was the . . . first
corruptor of the doctrines of Jesus.
    (Letter to W. Short, 1820)
     --Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826)
          Third president of the United States of America
          Jefferson here is giving perspective to his somewhat negative reputation
          among some Christian believers of his time and ours, as reflected in
          the often-quoted statement (virtually always without noting an original
          source), that "The Christian God is cruel, vindictive, capricious and unjust."

O great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds. and whose breath gives
life to ail the world, hear me! I am small and weak; I need your strength
and wisdom. Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever behold the
red and purple sunset. Make my hands respect the things you have made
and my ears sharp to hear your voice. Make me wise so that I may
understand the things you have taught my people. Let me learn the
lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock. I seek strength, not
to be greater than my friend, but to fight my greatest enemy -- myself.
Make me always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset, may my spirit come to you
without shame.
     --Red Cloud Indian School, Pine Ridge, South Dakota

Oh, love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away,
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
     --William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
          "The Young Man's Song", from Responsibilities and Other Poems. London/New York: Macmillan Company, 1919

I have to live with myself and so
I want to be fit for myself to know.
I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself straight in the eye.
I don't want to stand with the setting sun
And hate myself for the things I've done.
I don't want to keep on a closet shelf
A lot of secrets about myself
And fool myself as I come and go
Into thinking that nobody else will know
The kind of man I really am,
I don't want to dress myself in a sham.
I want to go out with my head erect
I want to deserve all men's respect;
But here in the struggle for fame and pelf
I want to be able to like myself.
I don't want to look at myself and know
That I'm bluster and bluff and empty show.
I never can hide myself from me;
I see what others may never see;
I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself and so,
Whatever happens I want to be
Self-respecting and conscience free.
     --Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959)

You will observe that virgins do not bear children, and that
    dead men are not resurrected.
You will read in the newspapers of wars and disasters, but
    they will report miracles with impatience.
You will be distressed, you will not wish to repudiate your
    commitment,
You will not wish to disappoint your parents, you will suffer
    deep troubling of the soul,
You will cry out like David before you, my God, my God, why
    hast Thou forsaken me?
Do not hastily concede this territory, do not retreat immediately.
Pass over the slender bridges, pick your road quickly through
    the marshes,
Observe the frail planks left by your predecessors, the
    stones gained only by leaping.
Press on to the higher ground, to the great hills and the
    mountains
From whose heights men survey the eternal country, and the
    city that has no need of moon or sun.
     --Alan Paton (1903-1988)
          written in 1950 for the confirmation of his son, Jonathan

O running stream of sparkling joy
To be a soaring human boy!

There's something strange about it, but fathers seem to feel
From sons a fond affection is something to conceal.
They stoop and kiss the daughter, while near them stands the son,
Though she perhaps is happy, and he the longing one.
They pet the little woman, and pass the little man,
Who wants to tell a trouble or share a boyish plan.
And yet the purest picture of love without alloy
Is when a man encircles the shoulders of his boy.

To him you seem a hero . . . to be a hero, too,
Requires a close communion between your boy and you.
He needs a hand to steady, he needs a word to cheer
Perhaps in greater measure than all the others here.
A mother's love is holy, a mother's love is long,
But oh a dad's affection can keep a boy so strong.
Temptations lie around him, temptations that destroy,
So let your arms enircle the shoulders of your boy.
     --Douglas Malloch (1877-1938)

We are men in the making.
We are small, but tomorrow we will move the world.
We will be true to the things of today, and the great things will
    follow, as surely as the sun crosses the sky.
We will keep clean, we will be honest and loyal, because there are
    those who trust us.
We will prepare for the tasks ahead.
We will study patiently and faithfully. Within the walls of our
    classrooms we will weave threads of knowledge into the pattern
    of our destinies. From deep within us we will forge the faith
    that may someday shine with beauty and usefulness in the darkened
    byways of time.
Because of the skill that we capture now, a train, a ship, an airliner
    may come into being and reach safe harbor guided by hands grown strong.
    There are bridges to build, and we will build them. There are homes
    to make, and we will light their windows. There are those who suffer,
    and we will ease their sorrow. There is a God to find, and we will
    seek Him with all the power of our hearts and minds.
Like the seedling that finds root in the wind and rain, we will grow
    sturdy until our arms reach out into the skies.
We are the men of tomorrow.
     --Lt. Wilfrid Dellquest
          Mt Lowe Military Academy, Altadena, California
          "Boys' Creed" was copyrighted on 22 December 1944,
          renewed 22 January 1972

I would be true, for there are those who trust me.
I would be pure, for there are those who care.
I would be strong, for there is much to suffer.
I would be brave, for there is much to dare.

I would be friend of all, the foe, the friendless.
I would be giving, and forget the gift.
I would be humble, for I know my weakness.
I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.
     --Howard A. Walter [Howard Arnold Walter](1883-1918)
          1906, set to music by Joseph Y. Peek in 1911
          the text and/or the song is used in the YMCA Rag ceremony

When black people bother to spell out the answer to
that riddle -- with expectations that can only be
described as naive -- the consistent white responses
add up to rather predictable pranks: another study of
black frustration; another conference on brotherhood;
another million-dollar crash program to tear down an
old ghetto and replace it with a new ghetto.
     --Bob Teague (born 1929)
          "Charlie Doesn't Even Know His Daily Racism is a Sick Joke"
          The New York Times Magazine, 15 September 1968

On such foundations would my judgment be made -- almost
entirely on appearance and personality because, being
so young, it would never occur to me that my pretty teacher
or nice man also had to be proficient, and that
my future growth depended almost entirely on how
seriously they regarded their responsibilities or how
thoroughly they planned for me. No, if I thought of it at
all, I would be certain that they know everything that they
need to know -- and even more! I would be confident they
would do everything for me that needed to be done. You
see, I am eight years old, and grown up people never
cheat little children.

If I were a teen-ager in junior high school, I would take
a long, quiet look at you. You are neither women teachers
or men teachers. You are just teachers.
I would call my crowd together and in a tone of real concern
warn them, "Could be we're headed for trouble. We gotta
stick together". And how surprised I would be to find that
on the very first day you disarmed me so completely!
You kept me so busy! Your poise, your charm, your
dignity, your tremendous ability -- your quiet assurance,
your control of the situation, your infectious
good humor -- I forgot you were supposed to be my enemy.
I did not recognize your weapons because my own weapons
have always been so different.

If I were a teen-ager in senior high school, I would level my
look at you with my head held high. I can wait. Since
you are only a very few years older than I, it could be
that you are not really much more competent. If you can prove
your ability so completely that I cannot ignore it, I shall
give you my allegiance -- every ounce of it! If I do not
recognize my progress, or the progress of the organization
which you direct, I can ignore you completely,
and my life will be just as happy without you.
If I m a boy, I may even flirt with you, kid you along.
If I am a girl, I may bedevil you by making mooneyes
at you! But whatever I am, and however I behave, you really
matter to me only when you have commanded my respect for
your leadership and your adulthood! When this has
happened, I shall elevate you to the rank of an idol, and I
beg you not to betray my action. Will you, please, not have
feet of clay.

I shall adhere to your tastes wholeheartedly in whatever you
give me to do. Your judgment will be superior to that of
any other, even to that of my parents. I shall remember
you through all of my life because you have provided my first
real experience of aesthetic exaltation -- my first realization
that there is something in the world much bigger than I have ever
known, and because you have opened up this world to me -- a
world of beauty, of taste, of discrimination, of tremendous
satisfaction -- because you have thus turned me toward the
way of emotional maturity, I shall never forget you.
     --Oleta Albertson Benn (1904-1991)
          speaking to a convention of new music teachers in 1954
          (references to music edited)

He who bends to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy.
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sunrise.
     --  William Blake (1757-1827)
          (Note: According to The Note Book 1793, of Blake, an early version
          of the fourth line is "Lives in an eternal sun rise". And one revised
          version of it is "Lives in eternity's sun rise".)

Go not too near a House of Rose--
The depredation of a Breeze--
Or inundation of a Dew
Alarms its walls away--
Nor try to tie the Butterfly,
Nor climb the Bars of Ecstasy,
In insecurity to lie
Is Joy's insuring quality.
     --Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
          (poem No.1434)

quoted by Nancy Sinatra on The David Frost Show (television), 20 May 1970

(original text): I learned that only the weak are cruel, and that
  gentleness can only be expected from the strong.
     --Leo C. Rosten (1908-1997)
          Captain Newman, M.D. (1962), p. 328

The white people never cared for land or deer or bear. When
we Indians kill meat, we eat it all up. When we dig roots,
we make little holes. . . . We shake down acorns and pine nuts.
We don't chop down the trees. We only use dead wood. But the
white people plow up the ground, pull up the trees, kill everything.
The tree says, "Don't. I am sore. Don't hurt me." But they chop
it down and cut it up. The spirit of the land hates them. . . .
The Indians never hurt anything, but the white people destroy all.
They blast rocks and scatter them on the ground. The rock says,
"Dont. You are hurting me." But the white people pay no attention.
When the Indians use rocks, they take little round ones for their
cooking. . . . How can the spirit of the earth like the white man? . . .
Everywhere the white man has touched it, it is sore.
     --Dorothy D. Lee (1905-1975)
          Freedom and Culture (1959) p. 163,
          quoted by Theodore Roszak, The Making of a Counter Culture (1969) p. 245

A great city is that
which has the greatest men and women.
If it be a few ragged huts,
it is still the greatest city
in the whole world.
     --Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
          "Song of the Broad-Axe", Leaves of Grass, 1856/1867

He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men
    and the love of little children;
Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed
    to express it;
Who has left the world better than he found it,
Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
Who has always looked for the best in others and given them
    the best he had;
Whose life was an inspiration;
Whose memory a benediction.
     --Bessie Anderson Stanley (1879-1952)
          Brown Book Magazine, 1904; also published in
          More Heart Throbs, Volume 2, 1911, pp.1-2

There are those
Who are beings complete unto themselves
Whole, undaunted -- a source
As leaves of grass, as stars,
As mountains, alike, alike, alike,
Yet unalike
Each is complete and contained
And each unalike star shines
Each ray of light is forever gone
To leave way for a new ray
And a new ray as from a fountain
Complete unto itself, full, flowing.
So are some souls like stars
And their words, works and songs
Like strong, quick flashes of light
From a brilliant, erupting cone.
So where are your mountains
To match some men?
     --Johnny Cash (1932-2003)
          from "On Bob Dylan", 1969, liner notes for "Nashville Skyline" album

My people? Who are they?
I went into the church where the congregation
Worshiped my God. Were they my people?
I felt no kinship to them as they knelt there.

My people! Where are they?
I went into the land where I was born,
Where men spoke my language . . .
I was a stranger there.
My people, my soul cried. Who are my people?

Last night in the rain I met an old man
Who spoke a language I do not speak,
Which marked him as one who does not know my God.
With apologetic smile he offered me
The shelter of his patched umbrella.
I met his eyes . . . And then I knew . . .
     --Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni (1888-1970)

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much
    seek to be consoled, as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
For it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
It is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
     --often attributed to St Francis of Assisi (c.1182-1226)
          first appeared in print (French) in La Clochette, 1912;
          first appearance in English was in the Quaker magazine,
          Friends' Intelligencer (1929), where it was attributed to St Francis
          used in the YMCA Gold Rag study guide

They are bored because they experience nothing. And they experience
nothing because the wonder has gone out of them. And when the wonder
has gone out of a man, he is dead. He is henceforth only an insect.

When all comes to all, the most precious element in life is wonder.
Love is a great emotion, and power is power. But both love and power
are based on wonder. Love without wonder is a sensational affair,
and power without wonder is mere force and compulsion. The one
universal element in consciousness which is fundamental to life,
is the element of wonder.
     --D.H. Lawrence [David Herbert Richards Lawrence](1885-1930)
          "Hymns in a Man's Life", Evening News, 13 October 1928

Oh that we might
For one hour
Forget that we are bound apart
And lie in each others arms
Mouth pressed on mouth and heart on heart
For just one hour of our life
To sink unchained through passions deep
And cast upon the farther shore
To lie entwined in tender sleep.
     --unknown

Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
      Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
      I am the captain of my soul.
     --William Ernest Henley (1849-1903)

If a person can't be what they are,
what's the purpose of being anything at all? (Act 2)
     --David Storey (born 1933)
                Home (1970)
          spoken by Jack (Ralph Richardson in the 1970 production)
                Act 2 quote used by Charles Pierce to close his show
                3 December 1971

. . .
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined
      toward me
And his arm lay lightly around my breast -- and that night I was happy.
     --Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
          "When I Heard at the Close of the Day"
          Leaves of Grass (1855/1891)

(I blame equally as much those who take it upon themselves to praise man,
as those who make it their business to blame him, together with others
who think that he should be perpetually amused; and only those can I
approve who seek for truth with tear-filled eyes.)
     --Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)
          Pensées, No.421 (1669)

(The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know. We feel it
in a thousand things. It is the heart which experiences God, and not the
reason. This, then, is faith: God felt by the heart, not by the reason.)
(Project Gutenberg translation)
     --Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)
          Pensées, No.277 (1669)

(People almost invariably arrive at their beliefs not on the basis
of proof but on the basis of what they find attractive.)
     --Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)
          De L'Art De Persuader [The Art of Persuasion](1655c.)

Do not weep for me in my state,
For I am only where I have desired.
But mourn for all who have not
Found a place -- for they know not
What is in the wanting. . . .
     --Pam Hopkins
          (1971)

If you will tell me why the fen
appears impassable, I then
will tell you why I think that I
can get across it if I try.
     --Marianne Moore (1887-1972)
          "I May, I Might, I Must", 1909/1959

The strange child who refuses
to wear our uniform
plays on tomorrow's team.

None of us knows the rules
he goes by, even the game.
Nor he. Poor pioneer

halfway between two eras,
rocketing blind from here
to a postulated planet,

he is our emissary
ferrying into the future
love if not understanding.
     --Francis Maguire (1918-2011)

XV - Choral

No sad thought his soul affright,
Sleep it is that maketh night.
Let no murmur or rude wind
To his slumbers prove unkind
But a quire of angels make
His dreams of heaven
And let him wake
To as many joys as can
In this world befall a man.

Promise fills the sky with light
Stars and angels dance in flight.
Joy of heaven shall now unbind
Chains of evil from mankind.
Love and joy their power shall break
And for a new-born prince's sake.
Never since the world began
Such a light such dark did span.
     --Anonymous
          set to music in 1954 by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)

extended version (with Biblical references):

Who is wise?
    He who learns from all people, as it is said:
        'From all those who taught me I gained understanding' (Psalms CXIX:99).
Who is strong?
    He who conquers his evil inclination, as it is said:
        'Better is one slow to anger than a strong man, and one who
          rules over his spirit than a conqueror of a city' (Proverbs XVI:32).
Who is rich?
    He who is satisfied with his lot, as it is said:
        'When you eat the toil of your hands you are fortunate [in this world]
          and it is good for you [in the world to come]'(Psalms CXXVIII:2).
Who is honored?
    He who honors others, as it is said:
        'For those who honor Me will I honor, and those who scorn
          Me will be degraded' (I Samuel II:30).
     --Shimon ben Zoma (IInd century CE)
              variant:
              Who is blind?
                  The man that cannot see another world.
              Who is dumb?
                  The man that cannot say a kind word at the right time.
              Who is poor?
                  The man plagued with too-strong desires.
              Who is rich?
                  The man whose heart is contented.
                  --Indian Wisdom

16 Then said I, wisdom is better than strength; nevertheless, the poor
      man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard.
17 The words of wise men are heard in quiet more than the cry of him
      that ruleth among fools.
18 Wisdom is better than weapons of war.
     --Ecclesiastes IX:16-18 (Vulgate, and KJV)
          Verse 18 inscribed over South doorway of Doheny Memorial Library,
          University of Southern California

Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace
there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and
clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in
your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the
changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full
of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many
persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical
about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is
as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the
things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden
misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a
child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is
unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you
conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the
noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its shams,
drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
     --Max Ehrmann (1872-1945)
          widely believed to have been written in 1692, the date of
          the founding of Old St Paul's Church in Baltimore, since
          the church's rector, the Rev. Frederick Kates, had included it,
          without reference to author or date of creation,
          in a compilation of devotional materials

(NOTE: obviously, this is a parody of the Desiderata shown above.
Please resist the temptation to take it seriously!)

You are a fluke Of the universe.
You have no right to be here

Go placidly amid the noise and waste.
And remember what comfort there may be
In owning a piece thereof.

Avoid quiet and passive persons
Unless you are in need of sleep.
Rotate your tires.

Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself
And heed well their advice, even though they be turkeys.
Know what to kiss.....and when!

Consider that two wrongs never make a right
But that THREE . . . do.

Wherever possible, put people on hold.

Be comforted that in the face of all aridity and disillusionment
And despite the changing fortunes of time,
There is always a big future in computer maintenance.

Remember the Pueblo.

Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle and mutilate.

Know yourself.
If you need help, call the FBI.

Exercise caution in your daily affairs,
Especially with those persons closest to you.
That lemon on your left, for instance.

Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls
Would scarcely get your feet wet.

Fall not in love therefore; it will stick to your face.

Gracefully surrender the things of youth:
The birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan
And let not the sands of time get in your lunch.

Hire people with hooks.

For a good time call 606-4311; ask for "Ken."

Take heart amid the deepening gloom
That your dog is finally getting enough cheese.

And reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot
It could only be worse in Milwaukee.

Therefore, make peace with your god
Whatever you conceive him to be --
Hairy thunderer, or cosmic muffin.

With all its hopes, dreams, promises and urban renewal
The world continues to deteriorate.

Give up!
     --Tony Hendra (born 1941)
          National Lampoon Radio Dinner (1972)