Now My Eyes Are Turned

One Feels 'the Dearth Of Human Words, The Roughness Of Mortal Speech' In Trying To Describe Things Intangible.

No Person Who Has Not Spent A Period Of His Life In Those 'stark And Sullen Solitudes That Sentinel The Pole' Will Understand Fully What Trees And Flowers, Sun-flecked Turf And Running Streams Mean To The Soul Of A Man

I Have Often Marveled At The Thin Line Which Separates Success From Failure.

I Called To The Other Men That The Sky Was Clearing, And Then A Moment Later I Realized That What I Had Seen Was Not A Rift In The Clouds But The White Crest Of An Enormous Wave.

If I Had Not Some Strength Of Will I Would Make A First Class Drunkard.