America Has Enjoyed The Doubtful Blessing Of

What Was Time Itself But The Bloom, The Sheath Enfolding Experience? Within Time, And With Time Alone, There Was Life - The Gleam, The Quiver, The Heartbeat, The Immeasurable Joy And Anguish Of Being.

But, Of Course Only Morons Would Ever Think Or Speak Of Themselves As Intellectuals. That's Why They All Look So Sad.

The Things I Feared Were Not In The Sky, But In The Nature And In The Touch Of Humanity. The Cruelty Of Children . . . The Blindness Of The Unpitiful - These Were My Terrors. But Not The Crash Of Thunder Overhead, Not The Bolts Of Fire From The Clouds.

In Her Abhorrrence Of A Vacuum, Nature, For The Furtherance Of Her Favorite Hobby, Has Often To Resort To Strange Devices. If She Could But Understand That Vacuity Is Sometimes Better Than Superfluity!

Though Pleasure May Be Purchasable, Happiness Cannot Be Bought For A Price.