No Man Has A Right Perception Of

Whoso Would Be A Man Must Be A Nonconformist.

To The Birds And Trees He Talks: Caesar Of His Leafy Rome, There The Poet Is At Home.

Spring Still Makes Spring In The Mind When Sixty Years Are Told: Love Wakes Anew This Throbbing Heart, And We Are Never Old Over The Winter Glaciers I See The Summer Glow And Through The Wind-piled Snowdrift The Warm Rosebuds Below.

The Sky Is The Ultimate Art Gallery Just Above Us.

Life Is Very Narrow. Bring Any Club Or Company Of Intelligent Men Together Again After Ten Years, And If The Presence Of Some Penetrating And Calming Genius Could Dispose Them To Frankness, What A Confession Of Insanities Would Come Up!