Life Is Too Short To

There Is One Mind Common To All Individual Men. Every Man Is An Inlet To The Same And To All Of The Same.

Mankind Have Such A Deep Stake In Inward Illumination, That There Is Much To Be Said By The Hermit Or Monk In Defence Of His Life Of Thought And Prayer.

Nature Is A Rag Merchant, Who Works Up Every Shred And Ort And End Into New Creations.

All The Elements, Whose Aid Man Calls In, Will Sometimes Become Big Masters.

If There Is Any Period One Would Desire To Be Born In, Is It Not The Age Of Revolution; When The Old And The New Stand Side By Side, And Admit Of Being Compared; When The Energies Of All Men Are Searched By Fear And By Hope; When The Historic Glories Of The Old Can Be Compensated By The Rich Possibilities Of The New Era?