We Seldom See Anybody Who

I Am Sure Of This, That By Going Much Alone A Man Will Get More Of A Noble Courage In Thought And Word Than From All The Wisdom That Is In Books.

The World Is All Gates, All Opportunities, Strings Of Tension Waiting To Be Struck.

Nature Is A Rag-merchant, Who Works Up Every Shred And Ort And End Into New Creations; Like A Good Chemist, Whom I Found, The Other Day, In His Laboratory, Converting His Old Shirts Into Pure White Sugar.

For Every Minute You Remain Angry, You Give Up Sixty Seconds Of Peace Of Mind.

In All Things I Would Have The Island Of A Man Inviolate. Let Us Sit Apart As The Gods, Talking From Peak To Peak All Round Olympus. No Degree Of Affection Need Invade This Religion.