Only In The Agony Of Parting Do

People Who Can't Be Witty Exert Themselves To Be Devout And Affectionate.

What Makes Life Dreary Is The Want Of A Motive.

Life Was Never Anything But A Perpetual See-saw Between Gravity And Jest.

If We Had A Keen Vision And Feeling Of All Ordinary Human Life, It Would Be Like Hearing The Grass Grow And The Squirrel's Heart Beat, And We Should Die Of That Roar Which Lies On The Other Side Of Silence.

It Is, I Fear, But A Vain Show Of Fulfilling The Heathen Precept, ''know Thyself,'' And Too Often Leads To A Self- Estimate Which Will Subsist In The Absence Of That Fruit By Which Alone The Quality Of The Tree Is Made Evident.