“A deep meaning often lies in old customs.”

I feel an army in my fist.

Song forbids victorious deeds to die.

To rankling poison hast thou turned in me the milk of human kindness.

Have Love. Not love alone for one, but man as man they brother call; and scatter like the circling sun thy charities on all.

Rigor pushed too far is sure to miss its aim, however good, as the bow snaps that is bent too stiffly.

Man is made of ordinary things, and habit is his nurse.

Innocence has a friend in heaven.

Be noble minded! Our own heart, and not other men’s opinions of us, forms our true honor.

To gain a crown by fighting is great, to reject it divine.

The victor is often vanquished by his own success.

One drop of hatred left in the cup of joy turns the most blissful draught into poison.

Appearance should never attain reality, And if nature conquers, then must art retire.

Full of wisdom are the ordinations of fate.

O the eye’s light is a noble gift of Heaven! All beings live from light, each fair created thing; the very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.

Yes great people are always subject to persecution and always getting into straits.

If you cannot please everyone with your deeds and your art, please a few. To please many is bad.

The requirements of health, and the style of female attire which custom enjoins, are in direct antagonism to each other.

Modularize, don’t customize. Build a platform as opposed to building all of the custom technology and custom vertical experiences.

We’re going from a world of customized software to standardized platforms.

As was the custom in such cases, the pear tree was charged with murder and sentenced to be uprooted and burned.

Accustom yourself to master and overcome things of difficulty; for if you observe, the left hand for want of practice is insignificant, and not adapted to general business; yet it holds the bridle better than the right, from constant use.

Custom adapts itself to expediency.

I resolved to claim for my sex all that an impartial Creator had bestowed, which, by custom and a perverted application of the Scriptures, had been wrested from woman.

I knew that I would speak in the language of the vanquished No more durable than old customs, family rituals, Christmas tinsel, and once a year the hilarity of carols.