A Man Gazing At The Stars Is

My Garden, With Its Silence And Pulses Of Fragrance That Come And Go On The Airy Undulations, Affects Me Like Sweet Music. Care Stops At The Gates, And Gazes At Me Wistfully Through The Bars.

Pleasure Has No Logic; It Never Treads In Its Own Footsteps.

Stirling, Like A Huge Brooch, Clasps Highlands And Lowlands Together.

The Great Man Is The Man Who Does A Thing For The First Time.

It Is The Sternest Philosophy, But On The Whole The Truest, That, In The Wide Arena Of The World, Failure And Success Are Not Accidents, As We So Frequently Suppose, But The Strictest Justice.