He Lives Most Life Whoever Breathes Most

How Joyously The Young Sea-mew Lay Dreaming On The Waters Blue, Whereon Our Little Bark Had Thrown A Little Shade, The Only One; But Shadows Ever Man Pursue.

We Overstate The Ills Of Life, And Take Imagination... Down Our Earth To Rake.

The Soul's Rialto Hath Its Merchandise, I Barter For Curl Upon That Mart.

We Get No Good By Being Ungenerous, Even To A Book, And Calculating Profits--so Much Help By So Much Reading. It Is Rather When We Gloriously Forget Ourselves, And Plunge Soul-forward, Headlong, Into A Book's Profound, Impassioned For Its Beauty, And Salt Of Truth-- 'tis Then We Get The Right Good From A Book.

The Exchange Of Sympathy For Gratitude Is The Most Princely Thing!