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And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.
And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.
Take the attitude of a student, never be too big to ask questions, never know too much to learn something read more
Take the attitude of a student, never be too big to ask questions, never know too much to learn something new.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort, is not fit to be
deemed a scholar.
The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort, is not fit to be
deemed a scholar.
The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale,
their feet are cold, their heads are read more
The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale,
their feet are cold, their heads are hot, the night is without
sleep, the day a fear of interruption,--pallor, squalor, hunger,
and egotism. If you come near them and see what conceits they
entertain--they are abstractionists, and spend their days and
nights in dreaming some dream; in expecting the homage of society
to some precious scheme built on a truth, but destitute of
proportion in its presentment, of justness in its application,
and of all energy of will in the schemer to embody and vitalize
it.
No one who cannot rejoice in the discovery of his own mistakes deserves to be called a scholar
No one who cannot rejoice in the discovery of his own mistakes deserves to be called a scholar
Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.
Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.
Students now arrive at the university ignorant and cynical about our political heritage, lacking the wherewithal to be either inspired read more
Students now arrive at the university ignorant and cynical about our political heritage, lacking the wherewithal to be either inspired by it or seriously critical of it
Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
read more
Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
That lifts a pinch of mortal dust;
A few swift years, and who can show
Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe?