O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O, sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. -Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892), The Splendor Falls

Thou workest Thine own work; men only call it theirs. - Bengali Song

Friends are like shining stars. You may not always see them, but you know they are always there for you.