Intellectual growth should commence at birth and cease only at death

Intellectual growth should commence at birth and cease only at death

He is of the race of the mushroom; he covers himself altogether
with his head.
[Lat., Fungino genere read more

He is of the race of the mushroom; he covers himself altogether
with his head.
[Lat., Fungino genere est; capite se totum tegit.]

Don't wait until everything is just right. It will never be perfect. There will always be challenges, obstacles and less read more

Don't wait until everything is just right. It will never be perfect. There will always be challenges, obstacles and less than perfect conditions. So what. Get started now. With each step you take, you will grow stronger and stronger, more and more skilled, more and more self-confident and more and more successful.

He who moves not forward, goes backward

He who moves not forward, goes backward

Arts and sciences are not cast in a mould, but are found and
perfected by degrees, by often handling read more

Arts and sciences are not cast in a mould, but are found and
perfected by degrees, by often handling and polishing, as bears
leisurely lick their clubs into shape.

But Jeshurun waxed fat, and kicked: thou art waxen fat, thou art
grown thick, thou art covered with fatness; read more

But Jeshurun waxed fat, and kicked: thou art waxen fat, thou art
grown thick, thou art covered with fatness; then he forsook God
which made him, and lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation.

'Tis thus the mercury of man is fix'd,
Strong grows the virtue with his nature mix'd.

'Tis thus the mercury of man is fix'd,
Strong grows the virtue with his nature mix'd.

There grewe an aged tree on the greene;
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes read more

There grewe an aged tree on the greene;
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes full strong and largely displayed,
But of their leaves they were disarayde
The bodie bigge, and mightely pight,
Thoroughly rooted, and of wond'rous hight;
Whilome had bene the king of the field,
And mochell mast to the husband did yielde,
And with his nuts larded many swine:
But now the gray mosse marred his rine;
His bared boughes were beaten with stormes,
His toppe was bald, and wasted with wormes,
His honour decayed, his brauches sere.

What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up,
And be discharged, and straight wound up anew?
read more

What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up,
And be discharged, and straight wound up anew?
No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets;
May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.