Humankind's Chief Fault Is That

Gray Hairs Seem To My Fancy Like The Soft Light Of The Moon, Silvering Over The Evening Of Life.

What Cicero Said Of Men-that They Are Like Wines, Age Souring The Bad, And Bettering The Good-we Can Say Of Misfortune, That It Has The Same Effect Upon Them.

Music Is Moonlight In The Gloomy Night Of Life.

It Has Been Jestingly Said That The Works Of John Paul Richter Are Almost Unintelligible To Any But The Germans, And Even To Some Of Them. A Worthy German, Just Before Richter's Death, Edited A Complete Edition Of His Works, In Which One Particular Passage Fairly Puzzled Him. Determined To Have It Explained At The Source, He Went To John Paul Himself. The Author's Reply Was Very Characteristic: "my Good Friend, When I Wrote That Passage, God And I Knew What It Meant; It Is Possible That God Knows It Still; But As For Me, I Have Totally Forgotten."

Without God There Is For Mankind No Purpose, No Goal, No Hope, Only A Wavering Future, An Eternal Dread Of Every Darkness.