As One Grows Weaker One Is Less

And Not Only Did He Learn By Experience, But Instincts Long Dead Became Alive Again. The Domesticated Generations Fell From Him. In Vague Ways He Remembered Back To The Youth Of The Breed, To The Time The Wild Dogs Ranged In Packs Through The Primeval Forest And Killed Their Meat As They Ran It Down.

The Stone The Builders Rejected.

Somehow, The Love Of The Islands, Like The Love Of A Woman, Just Happens. One Cannot Determine In Advance To Love A Particular Woman, Nor Can One So Determine To Love Hawaii.

I Believe That When I Am Dead, I Am Dead. I Believe That With My Death I Am Just As Much Obliterated As The Last Mosquito You And I Squashed.

Do You Know The Only Value Life Has Is What Life Puts Upon Itself? And It Is Of Course Overestimated, For It Is Of Necessity Prejudiced In Its Own Favour. Take That Man I Had Aloft. He Held On As If He Were A Precious Thing, A Treasure Beyond Diamonds Of Rubies. To You? No. To Me? Not At All. To Himself? Yes. But I Do Not Accept His Estimate. He Sadly Overrates Himself. There Is Plenty More Life Demanding To Be Born. Had He Fallen And Dripped His Brains Upon The Deck Like Honey From The Comb, There Would Have Been No Loss To The World. The Supply Is Too Large.