It Is Disastrous To Own More Of

Anxiety And Distress, Interrupted Occasionally By Pleasure, Is The Normal Course Of Man's Existence.

We Have Not Merely Escaped From Something But Into Something... We Have Joined The Greatest Of All Communities, Which Is Not That Of Man Alone But Of Everything Which Shares With Us The Great Adventure Of Being Alive.

Nature, In Her Blind Thirst For Life Has Filled Every Possible Cranny Of The Rotting Earth With Some Sort Of Fantastic Creature.

In History As It Comes To Be Written, There Is Usually Some Spirit Of The Age Which Historians Can Define, But The Shape Of Things Is Seldom So Clear To Those Who Live Them. To Most Thoughtful Men It Has Generally Seemed That Theirs Was An Age Of Confusion.

The Flowers Never Waste Their Sweetness On The Desert Air Or, For That Matter, On The Jungle Air. In Fact, They Waste It Only When Nobody Except A Human Being Is There To Smell It. It Is For The Bugs And A Few Birds, Not For Men, That They Dye Their Petals Or Waft Their Scents.