Perfect Ignorance Is Quiet, Perfect

A Star Is Beautiful; It Affords Pleasure, Not From What It Is To Do, Or To Give, But Simply By Being What It Is. It Befits The Heavens; It Has Congruity With The Mighty Space In Which It Dwells. It Has Repose; No Force Disturbs Its Eternal Peace. It Has Freedom; No Obstruction Lies Between It And Infinity.

Instead Of Saying That Man Is The Creature Of Circumstance, It Would Be Nearer The Mark To Say That Man Is The Architect Of Circumstance. It Is Character Which Builds An Existence Out Of Circumstance. From The Same Materials One Man Builds Palaces, Another Hovels; One Warehouses, Another Villas; Bricks And Mortar Are Mortar And Bricks Until The Architect Can Make Them Something Else.

A False Man Found A Religion? Why, A False Man Cannot Build A Brick House!

Good Breeding Differs, If At All, From High Breeding Only As It Gracefully Remembers The Rights Of Others, Rather Than Gracefully Insists On Its Own Rights.

Considering The Multitude Of Mortals That Handle The Pen In These Days, And Can Mostly Spell, And Write Without Glaring Violations Of Grammar, The Question Naturally Arises: How Is It, Then, That No Work Proceeds From Them, Bearing Any Stamp Of Authenticity And Permanence; Of Worth For More Than One Day?