One Doesn't Always Lose When One Has

A Vi'let On The Meadow Grew, That No One Saw, That No One Knew, It Was A Modest Flower. A Shepherdess Pass'd By That Way-- Light Footed, Pretty And So Gay; That Way She Came, Softly Warbling Forth Her Lay.

Age Merely Shows What Children We Remain.

We All Of Us Live Upon The Past, And Through The Past We Are Destroyed.

One Is Never Satisfied With A Portrait Of Persons Whom One Knows. That Is Why I Have Always Pitied Portraitists. One Demands So Seldom Of Others The Impossible, But Demands Just That Of The Portraitists.

Do The Duty Which Lies Nearest To Thee.