The voices of those children, that is the voice of the immense future.

You'll see that, since our fate is ruled by chance, Each man, unknowing, great, Should frame life so that at some future hour Fact and his dreamings meet.

What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past

A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.

What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past

The sublimest song to be heard on earth is the lisping of the human soul on the lips of children