The Ant Is Knowing And Wise, But

Reason Is The Servant Of Instinct.

As Time Goes On, New And Remoter Aspects Of Truth Are Discovered Which Can Seldom Be Fitted Into Creeds That Are Changeless.

The Artistic Impulse Seems Not To Wish To Produce Finished Work. It Certainly Deserts Us Half-way, After The Idea Is Born; And If We Go On, It Is Labor.

We Talk Of Our Mastery Of Nature, Which Sounds Very Grand; But The Fact Is We Respectfully Adapt Ourselves, First, To Her Ways.

You Can't Sweep Other People Off Their Feet, If You Can't Be Swept Off Your Own.