Oh, London Is A Man's Town, There's

In The Progress Of Personality, First Comes A Declaration Of Independence, Then A Recognition Of Interdependence.

You May Have To Live In A Crowd, But You Do Not Have To Live Like It.

The Worlds In Which We Live At Heart Are One, The World "i Am," The Fruit Of "i Have Done"; And Underneath These Worlds Of Flower And Fruit, The World "i Love,"--the Only Living Root.

Not To The Swift, The Race: Not To The Strong, The Fight: Not To The Righteous, Perfect Grace: Not To The Wise, The Light. But Often Faltering Feet Come Surest To The Goal; And They Who Walk In Darkness Meet The Sunrise Of The Soul.

Who Can Explain The Secret Pathos Of Nature's Loveliness? It Is A Touch Of Melancholy Inherited From Our Mother Eve. It Is An Unconscious Memory Of The Lost Paradise. It Is The Sense That Even If We Should Find Another Eden, We Would Not Be Fit To Enjoy It Perfectly Nor Stay In It Forever.