Oft When The White, Still

Defeat May Serve As Well As Victory To Shake The Soul And Let The Glory Out. When The Great Oak Is Straining In The Wind, The Boughs Drink In New Beauty And The Trunk Sends Down A Deeper Root On The Windward Side. Only The Soul That Knows The Mighty Grief Can Know The Mighty Rapture, Sorrows Come To Stretch Out Spaces In The Heart For Joy.

By A Divine Paradox, Wherever There Is One Slave There Are Two. So In The Wonderful Reciprocities Of Being, We Can Never Reach The Higher Levels Until All Our Fellows Ascend With Us.

The Sequoias Belong To The Silences Of The Milleniums. Many Of Them Have Seen A Hundred Human Generations Rise, Give Off Their Little Clamors And Perish. They Seem Indeed To Be Forms Of Immortality Standing Here Amoing The Transitory Shapes Of Time.

The Crest And Crowning Of All Good, Life's Final Star, Is Brotherhood.

I Fear The Vermin That Shall Underminesenate And Citadel And School And Shrine.