I Hate A Man Who

There Are No Words That Can Tell The Hidden Spirit Of The Wilderness, That Can Reveal Its Mystery, Its Melancholy And Its Charm. There Is A Delight In The Hardy Life Of The Open... Apart From This, Yet Mingled With It, Is The Strong Attraction Of The Silent Places, Of The Large Tropic Moons, And The Splendor Of The New Stars; Where The Wanderer Sees The Awful Glory Of Sunrise And Sunset In The Wide Waste Spaces Of The Earth, Unworn Of Man, And Changed Only By The Slow Change Of The Ages Through Time Everlasting.

The Great Corporations Which We Have Grown To Speak Of Rather Loosely As Trusts Are The Creatures Of The State, And The State Not Only Has The Right To Control Them, But It Is Duty Bound To Control Them Wherever The Need Of Such Control Is Shown.

The Credit Belongs To The Man Who Is Actually In The Arena; Whose Face Is Marred With Dust And Sweat; Who Strives Valiantly; Who Errs And May Fall Again And Again, Because There Is No Effort Without Error Or Shortcoming.

If There Ever Was A Pursuit Which Stultified Itself By Its Very Conditions, It Is The Pursuit Of Pleasure As The All-sufficing End Of Life. Happiness Cannot Come To Any Man Capable Of Enjoying True Happiness Unless It Comes As The Sequel To Duty Well And Honestly Done. To Do That Duty You Need To Have More Than One Trait. From The Greatest To The Smallest, Happiness And Usefulness Are Largely Found In The Same Soul, And The Joy Of Life Is Won In Its Deepest And Truest Sense Only By Those Who Have Not Shirked Life's Burdens.

A President Has A Great Chance; His Position Is Almost That Of A King And A Prime Minister Rolled Into One.