The Condition Every Art Requires

A Man Long Accustomed To Admire His Wife In General, Seldom Pauses To Admire Her In A Particular Gown Or Attitude, Unless His Attention Is Directed To Her By The Appreciative Gaze Of Another Man.

No One Can Build His Security Upon The Nobleness Of Another Person.

Thirty Or Forty Years Ago, In One Those Grey Towns Along The Burlington Railroad Which Are So Much Greyer To-day Than They Were Then, There Was A House Well Know From Omaha To Denver For Its Hospitality And For A Certain Charm Of Atmosphere.

One January Day, Thirty Years Ago, The Little Town Of Hanover, Anchored On A Windy Nebraska Tableland, Was Trying Not To Be Blown Away.

Too Much Information Is Rather Deadening.