It Is A Fact That Not Once

For A Young Man, Sleep Is A Sure Solvent Of Distress. There Whirls Not For Him In The Night Any So Hideous Phantasmagoria As Will Not Become, In The Clarity Of The Next Morning, A Spruce Procession For Him To Lead. Brief The Vague Horror Of His Awakening; Memory Sweeps Back To Him, And He Sees Nothing Dreadful After All. "why Not?" Is The Sun's Bright Message To Him, And "why Not Indeed?" His Answer.

Most Women Are Not As Young As They Are Painted.

In Every Human Being One Or The Other Of These Two Instincts Is Predominant: The Active Or Positive Instinct To Offer Hospitality, The Negative Or Passive Instinct To Accept It. And Either Of These Instincts Is So Significant Of Character That One Might As Well Say That Mankind Is Divisible Into Two Great Classes: Hosts And Guests.

Admiration Involves A Glorious Obliquity Of Vision.

Great Men Are But Life-sized. Most Of Them, Indeed, Are Rather Short.