Doing Well Is A Result

There Is One Mind Common To All Individual Men

For Each New Morning With Its Light, For Rest And Shelter Of The Night, For Health And Food, For Love And Friends, For Everything Thy Goodness Sends.

No Power Of Genius Has Ever Yet Had The Smallest Success In Explaining Existence. The Perfect Enigma Remains.

The Etymologist Finds The Deadest Word To Have Been Once A Brilliant Picture. Language Is Fossil Poetry. As The Limestone Of The Continent Consists Of Infinite Masses Of The Shells Of Animalcules, So Language Is Made Up Of Images Or Tropes, Which Now, In Their Secondary Use, Have Long Ceased To Remind Us Of Their Poetic Origin.

The Ship Of Heaven Guides Itself And Will Not Accept A Wooden Rudder.