A Thought Will Color A

To The Untraveled, Territory Other Than Their Own Familiar Heath Is Invariably Fascinating. Next To Love It Is The One Thing That Solaces And Delights.

If I Were Personally To Define Religion, I Would Say That It Is A Bandage That Man Has Invented To Protect A Soul Made Bloody By Circustance.

The Mystery Of Life--its Inexplicability, Beauty, Cruelty, Tenderness, Folly . . . Has Occupied The Greater Part Of My Waking Thoughts; And In Reverence Or Rage Or Irony, As The Moment Or Situation Might Dictate, I Have Pondered And Even Demanded Of Cosmic Energy To Know Why.

If You Have That Unconquerable Urge To Write, Nothing Will Stop You From Writing.

A Real Flame Of Love Is A Subtle Thing. It Burns As A Will-o'-the-wisp, Dancing Onward To Fairy Lands Of Delight. It Roars As A Furnace. Too Often Jealousy Is The Quality Upon Which It Feeds.