And All The Air Is

Perhaps The Greatest Lesson Which The Lives Of Literary Men Teach Us Is Told In A Single Word* Wait!

Whatever Hath Been Written Shall Remain, Nor Be Erased Nor Written O'er Again; The Unwritten Only Still Belongs To Thee: Take Heed, And Ponder Well What That Shall Be.

Every Man Must Patiently Bide His Time. He Must Wait -- Not In Listless Idleness But In Constant, Steady, Cheerful Endeavors, Always Willing And Fulfilling And Accomplishing His Task, That When The Occasion Comes He May Be Equal To The Occasion.

In Old Age Our Bodies Are Worn-out Instruments, On Which The Soul Tries In Vain To Play The Melodies Of Youth. But Because The Instrument Has Lost Its Strings, Or Is Out Of Tune, It Does Not Follow That The Musician Has Lost His Skill.

More Hearts Are Breaking In This World Of Ours Than One Would Say. In Distant Villages And Solitudes Remote, Where Winds Have Wafted The Barbed Seeds Of Love, Or Birds Of Passage Scattered Them In Their Flight, Do They Take Root, And Grow In Silence, And In Silence Perish.