O Mariner-soul, Thy Quest Is

From The First Opening Of Our Eyes, It Is The Light That Attracts Us. We Clutch Aimlessly With Our Baby Fingers At The Gossamer-motes In The Sunbeam, And We Die Reaching Out After An Ineffable Blending Of Earthly And Heavenly Beauty Which We Shall Never Fully Comprehend.

God Be Thanked For The Thinkers Of Good And Noble Thoughts! It Wakes Up All The Best In Ourselves, To Come Into Close Contact With Others Greater And Better In Every Way Than We Are.

I Believe The Best Poetry Of Our Times Is Growing Too Artistic; The Study Is Too Visible. If Freedom And Naturalness Are Lost Out Of Poetry, Everything Worth Having Is Lost.

It Is A Conquest When We Can Lift Ourselves Above The Annoyances Of Circumstances Over Which We Have No Control; But It Is A Greater Victory When We Can Make Those Circumstances Our Helpers,--when We Can Appreciate The Good There Is In Them. It Has Often Seemed To Me As If Life Stood Beside Me, Looking Me In The Face, And Saying, "child, You Must Learn To Like Me In The Form In Which You See Me, Before I Can Offer Myself To You In Any Other Aspect.

There Is Something In The Place Where We Were Born That Holds Us Always By The Heart-strings.