I Cried Over Beautiful Things, Knowing No

Hog Butcher For The World, Tool Maker, Stacker Of Wheat, Player With Railroads And The Nation's Freight Handler; Stormy, Husky, Brawling, City Of Big Shoulders.

Tell Him Solitude Is Creative If He Is Strong And The Final Decisions Are Made In Silent Rooms. Tell Him To Be Different From Other People If It Comes Natural And Easy Being Different. Let Him Have Lazy Days Seeking His Deeper Motives. Let Him Seek Deep For Where He Is A Born Natural. Then He May Understand Shakespeare And The Wright Brothers, Pasteur, Pavlov, Michael Faraday And Free Imaginations Bringing Changes Into A World Resenting Change. He Will Be Lonely Enough To Have Time For The Work He Knows As His Own.

I'm An Idealist. I Don't Know Where I'm Going, But I'm On My Way.

Time Is The Coin Of Your Life. You Spend It. Do Not Allow Others To Spend It For You.

I Have Become Infected, Now That I See How Beautifully A Book Is Coming Out Of All This.