A Writer Is A World

This First Glance Of A Soul Which Does Not Yet Know Itself Is Like Dawn In The Heavens; It Is The Awakening Of Something Radiant And Unknown.

We See Past Time In A Telescope And Present Time In A Microscope. Hence The Apparent Enormities Of The Present.

Taste Is The Common Sense Of Genius.

We Teachers Make The Road, Others Will Make The Journey.

One Is Not Idle Because One Is Absorbed. There Is Both Visible And Invisible Labor. To Contemplate Is To Toil, To Think Is To Do. The Crossed Arms Work, The Clasped Hands Act. The Eyes Upturned To Heaven Are An Act Of Creation.