And Each Man Stands With His Face

Children Use The Fist Until They Are Of Age To Use The Brain.

A Man May Love A Woman Perfectly, And Yet By No Means Ignorantly Maintain A Thousand Women Have Not Larger Eyes. Enough That She Alone Has Looked At Him With Eyes That, Large Or Small, Have Won His Soul.

Experience, Like A Pale Musician, Holds A Dulcimer Of Patience In His Hand.

Every Age, Through Being Beheld Too Close, Is Ill-discerned By Those Who Have Not Lived Past It.

O Pusillanimous Heart, Be Comforted And, Like A Cheerful Traveller, Take The Road Singing Beside The Hedge.