Nature Will Not Be Buddhist: She Resents

The World Is Upheld By The Veracity Of Good Men: They Make The Earth Wholesome.

The Universal Does Not Attract Us Until Housed In An Individual.

Many A Profound Genius, I Suppose, Who Fills The World With Fame Of His Exploding Renowned Errors, Is Yet Everyday Posed And Baffled By Trivial Questions At His Own Supper Table.

The Fatal Trait Of The Times Is The Divorce Between Religion And Morality.

In The First Place, All Books That Get Fairly Into The Vital Air Of The World Were Written By The Successful Class, By The Affirming And Advancing Class, Who Utter What Tens Of Thousands Feel Though They Cannot Say.