The Encounter With Death Is The Great

You Think Religion Is What's Inside A Little Building Filled With Pretty Lights From Stained Glass Windows. But It's Not. It's Wings! Wings!

What A Fearfully Distracting, Perplexing And Heart-searching Business It Is To Live.

One Reason We Haven't Any National Art Is Because We Have Too Much Magnificence. All Our Capacity For Admiration Is Used Up On The Splendor Of Palace-like Railway Stations And Hotels. Our National Tympanum Is So Deafened By That Blare Of Sumptuousness That We Have No Ears For The Still, Small Voice Of Beauty.

Never Since The Dawn Of Human History, As Far As I Can Find Out, Did People Long Settled In Any Region Give A Friendly Welcome To Newcomers. One Of The Disagreeable Traits Of Our Human Nature Seems To Be To Dislike On Sight People Who Come Later Than The First Settlers.

The Richness And Endless Variety Of Human Relationships ... That's What Authors, Even The Finest And Greatest, Only Succeed In Hinting At. It's A Hopeless Business, Like Trying To Dip Up The Ocean With A Tea-spoon.