But Human Experience Is Usually Paradoxical, That

Our Dead Are Never Dead To Us, Until We Have Forgotten Them.

How Could A Man Be Satisfied With A Decision Between Such Alternatives And Under Such Circumstances No More Than He Can Be Satisfied With His Hat, Which He's Chosen From Among Such Shapes As The Resources Of The Age Offer Him. . . .

Play Not With Paradoxes. That Caustic Which You Handle In Order To Scorch Others May Happen To Sear Your Own Fingers And Make Them Dead To The Quality Of Things.

But, Bless Us, Things May Be Lovable That Are Not Altogether Handsome, I Hope?

It Must Be Sad To Outlive Aught We Love.