A New And Valid Idea

To Us Who Remain Behind Is Left This Day Of Memories. Every Year--in The Full Tide Of Spring, At The Height Of The Symphony Of Flowers And Love And Life--there Comes A Pause, And Through The Silence We Hear The Lonely Pipe Of Death.

As For The Excellent Little Wretches Who Grow Up In What They Are Taught, With Never A Scruple Or A Query, ... They Signify Nothing In The Intellectual Life Of The Race.

From Forty To Fifty A Man Must Move Upward, Or The Natural Falling Off In The Vigor Of Life Will Carry Him Rapidly Downward.

Poverty Comes Pleading Not For Charity, For The Most Part, But Imploring Us To Find A Purchaser For Its Unmarketable Wares.

Be Willing To Commit Yourself To A Course, Perhaps A Long And Hard One, Without Being Able To Foresee Exactly Where You Will Come Out.