In Good Writing, Words Become

Yet A Man May Love A Paradox, Without Losing Either His Wit Or His Honesty.

The Rain Comes When The Wind Calls.

A Man's Growth Is Seen In The Successive Choirs Of His Friends.

Society Is An Illusion To The Young Citizen. It Lies Before Him In Rigid Repose, With Certain Names, Men, And Institutions, Rootedlike Oak-trees To The Centre, Round Which All Arrange Themselves The Best They Can. But The Old Statesman Knows That Society Is Fluid; There Are No Such Roots And Centres; But Any Particle May Suddenly Become The Centre Of The Movement, And Compel The System To Gyrate Round It, As Every Man Of Strong Will, Like Pisistratus, Or Cromwell, Does For A Time, And Every Man Of Truth, Like Plato, Or Paul, Does Forever.

The Visible Heavens And Earth Sympathize With Jesus.