No One Can Build His Security Upon

It Is Cremated Youth. It Is All Yours--no One Gave It To You.

There Is A Popular Superstition That "realism" Asserts Itself In The Cataloguing Of A Great Number Of Material Objects, In Explaining Mechanical Processes, The Methods Of Operating Manufactories And Trades, And In Minutely And Unsparingly Describing Physical Sensations. But Is Not Realism, More Than It Is Anything Else, An Attitude Of Mind On The Part Of The Writer Toward His Material, A Vague Indication Of The Sympathy And Candour With Which He Accepts, Rather Than Chooses, His Theme?

The Great Pines Stand At A Considerable Distance From Each Other. Each Tree Grows Alone, Murmurs Alone, Thinks Alone. They Do Notintrude Upon Each Other. The Navajos Are Not Much In The Habit Of Giving Or Of Asking Help. Their Language Is Not A Communicative One, And They Never Attempt An Interchange Of Personality In Speech. Over Their Forests There Is The Same Inexorable Reserve. Each Tree Has Its Exalted Power To Bear.

Success Is Less Interesting Than Struggle. There Is Great Pleasure In The Effort.

Ah! The Terror And The Delight Of That Moment When First We Fear Ourselves! Until Then We Have Not Lived.