Events Are Never Absolute, Their

Vulgar Souls Look Hastily And Superficially At The Sea And Accuse It Of Monotony; Other More Privileged Beings Could Spend A Lifetime Admiring It And Discovering New And Changing Phenomena That Delight Them. So It Is With Love.

The Weakest Being On Earth Can Accomplish Feats Of Strength. The Frailest Urchin Will Ring Every Doorbell On The Street In Arctic Weather Or Hoist Himself Aloft To Inscribe His Name On A Virgin Monument.

The Fact Is That Love Is Of Two Kinds, One Which Commands, And One Which Obeys. The Two Are Quite Distinct, And The Passion To Which The One Gives Rise Is Not The Passion Of The Other.

As Soon As Man Seeks To Penetrate The Secrets Of Nature--in Which Nothing Is Secret And It Is But A Question Of Seeing--he Realizes That The Simple Produces The Supernatural.

The Life Of A Man Who Deliberately Runs Through His Fortune Often Becomes A Business Speculation; His Friends, His Pleasures, Patrons, And Acquaintances Are His Capital.