Charity In Various Guises Is An Intruder

We Only See Clearly When We Have Reached The Depths Of Woe.

Imagination Without Culture Is Crippled And Moves Slowly; But It Can Be Pure Imagination, And Rich Also, As Folk-lore Will Tell The Vainest.

The Fire Of True Enthusiasm Is Like The Fires Of Baku, Which No Water Can Ever Quench, And Which Burn Steadily On From Night To Day, And Year To Year, Because Their Well-spring Is Eternal.

A Cruel Story Runs On Wheels, And Every Hand Oils The Wheels As They Run.

It Is A Kind Of Blindness--poverty. We Can Only Grope Through Life When We Are Poor, Hitting And Maiming Ourselves Against Every Angle.