Cleanse The Fountain If You Would Purify

In The Ardor Of His Enthusiasm, A Youth Set Forth In Quest Of A Man Of Whom He Might Take Counsel As To His Future, But After Long Search And Many Disappointments, He Came Near Relinquishing The Pursuit As Hopeless, When Suddenly It Occurred To Him That One Must First Be A Man To Find A Man, And Profiting By This Suggestion, He Set Himself To The Work Of Becoming Himself The Man He Had Been Seeking So Long And Fruitlessly.

Science Has Grown Frightfully Audacious In These Days -- Swift-footed, Ponderous, Careering Over Her Iron Ways With Unslacking Pace. This Rampant Dragon, On Which I Am Mounted, See How He Bends His Once Stiff Neck To His Rider, Champing His Checked Bit And Pawing The Dust, Impatient To Leap Around The Globe. Genius Is Prescient, Foresees Its Own Might. Man Is Striving Through These Iron-ribbed, Steam-sped Hippogriffs, To Recover His Lost Ubiquity And Omnipotence, And Threatens Soon To Grasp In His Ample Palm, And Fix With Flaming Eye-ball, The Elemental Forces!

Man Is A Living Lie--a Bitter Jest Upon Himself--a Conscious Grain Of Sand Lost In A Desert Of Unconsciousness.

The Fable Runs That The Gods Mix Our Pains And Pleasure In One Cup, And Thus Mingle For Us The Adulterate Immortality Which We Alone Are Permitted Here To Enjoy. Voluptuous Raptures, Could We Prolong These At Pleasure, Would Dissipate And Dissolve Us. A Sip Is The Most That Mortals Are Permitted From Any Goblet Of Delight.

Success Is Sweet And Sweeter If Long Delayed And Gotten Through Many Struggles And Defeats.