Miss Searle Had Always Considered Boredom An

There Is Nothing Like Despair To Make One Throw Oneself Upon The Gods.

All Tragedies Deal With Fated Meetings; How Else Could There Be A Play? Fate Deals Its Stroke; Sorrow Is Purged, Or Turned To Rejoicing; There Is Death, Or Triumph; There Has Been A Meeting, And A Change. No One Will Ever Make A Tragedy - And That Is As Well, For One Could Not Bear It - Whose Grief Is That The Principals Never Met.

Each Man In His Life Honors, And Imitates As Well As He Can, That God To Whose Choir He Belonged, While He Is Uncorrupted In His First Incarnation Here; And In The Fashion He Has Thus Learned, He Bears Himself To His Beloved As Well As To The Rest. So, Then, Each Chooses From Among The Beautiful A Love Conforming To His Kind, And Then, As If His Chosen Were His God, He Sets Him Up And Robes Him For Worship.

What Keeps The Democracy Alive At All But The Hatred Of Excellence; The Desire Of The Base To See No Head Higher Than Their Own?

Tell A Man What He May Not Sing And He Is Still Half Free; Even All Free, If He Never Wanted To Sing It. But Tell Him What He Must Sing, Take Up His Time With It So That His True Voice Cannot Sound Even In Secret -- There, I Have Seen Is Slavery.