Every Person Above The Ordinary Has A

Our Destiny Often Looks Like A Fruit-tree In Winter. Who Would Think From Its Pitiable Aspect That Those Rigid Boughs, Those Rough Twigs Could Next Spring Again Be Green, Bloom, And Even Bear Fruit? Yet We Hope It, We Know It.

Look Closely At Those Who Patronize You. Half Are Unfeeling, Half Untaught.

And Those Whom Once My Song Had Cheered And Gladdened, If Still They Live, Rove Through The World Now Saddened.

If You Don't Feel It, You'll Never Achieve It.

Wind Is The Loving Wooer Of Waters; Wind Blends Together Billows All-foaming. Spirit Of Man, Thou Art Like Unto Water! Fortune Of Man, Thou Art Like Unto Wind!