Years Hence, Perhaps, May Dawn

Our Inequality Materializes Our Upper Class, Vulgarizes Our Middle Class, Brutalizes Our Lower Class.

Thought And Science Follow Their Own Law Of Development; They Are Slowly Elaborated In The Growth And Forward Pressure Of Humanity, In What Shakespeare Calls ...the Prophetic Soul, Of The Wide World Dreaming On Things To Come.

What Is It To Grow Old? Is It To Lose The Glory Of The Form, The Lustre Of The Eye? Is It For Beauty To Forego Her Wreath? Yes; But Not This Alone.

How Many Minds--almost All The Great Ones--were Formed In Secrecy And Solitude!

The World Hath Failed To Impart The Joy Our Youth Forebodes; Failed To Fill Up The Void Which In Our Breasts We Bear.