He Who Knows How To Be Content

Woe To That Nation Whose Literature Is Disturbed By The Intervention Of Power. Because That Is Not Just A Violation Against "freedom Of Print," It Is The Closing Down Of The Heart Of The Nation, A Slashing To Pieces Of Its Memory.

In All Probability An Outburst Of Desperation In The Midst Of General Submissiveness Will Always Help.

Call No Day Happy 'til It Is Done; Call No Man Happy Til He Is Dead.

A Day Without A Dark Cloud. Almost A Happy Day. There Were Three Thousand Six Hundred And Fifty-three Days Like That In His Stretch. From The First Clang Of The Rail To The Last Clang Of The Rail. Three Thousand Six Hundred And Fifty-three Days. The Three Extra Days Were For Leap Years.

You're Sincere, But In Order Not To Upset Your Views You Avoid Talking With People Who Think Differently. You Pick Your Thoughts From Conversations With People Like Yourself, From Books Written By People Like Yourself. In Physics They Call It Resonance. You Start Out With Modest Opinions, But They Match And Build Each Other Up To A Scale.