The Trouble With Wedlock Is

If You Have To Keep Reminding Yourself Of A Thing, Perhaps It Isn't So.

Read, Every Day, Something No One Else Is Reading. Think, Every Day, Something No One Else Is Thinking.

Truth Is What Every Man Sees Lurking At The Bottom Of His Own Soul, Like The Oyster Shell Housewives Put In The Kitchen Kettle To Collect The Lime From The Water. By And By Each Man's Iridescent Oyster Shell Of Truth Becomes Coated With The Lime Of Prejudice And Hearsay.

Standing By The Crib Of One's Own Baby, With That World - Old Pang Of Compassion And Protectiveness Toward This So Little Creature That Has All Its Course To Run, The Heart Flies Back In Yearning And Gratitude To Those Who Felt Just So Toward One's Self. Then For The First Time One Understands The Homely Succession Of Sacrifices And Pains By Which Life Is Transmitted And Fostered Down The Stumbling Generations Of Men.

We Call A Child's Mind 'small' Simply By Habit; Perhaps It Is Larger Than Ours Is, For It Can Take In Almost Anything Without Effort.