This Is A World Of

The Water Of The Fountain Ran, The Swift River Ran, The Day Ran Into Evening, So Much Life In The City Ran Into Death According To Rule, Time And Tide Waited For No Man, The Rats Were Sleeping Close Together In Their Dark Holes Again, The Fancy Ball Was Lighted Up At Supper, All Things Ran Their Course.

Let No Man Turn Aside, Ever So Slightly, From The Broad Path Of Honour, On The Plausible Pretence That He Is Justified By The Goodness Of His End. All Good Ends Can Be Worked Out By Good Means.

... When The Locked Door Opens, And There Comes In A Young Woman, Deadly Pale, And With Long Fair Hair, Who Glides To The Fire, And Sits Down In The Chair We Have Left There, Wringing Her Hands.

Electric Communication Will Never Be A Substitute For The Face Of Someone Who With Their Soul Encourages Another Person To Be Brave And True.

Most Men Are Individuals No Longer So Far As Their Business, Its Activities, Or Its Moralities Are Concerned. They Are Not Units But Fractions.