The Shots Had Dispersed The Birds; There

Day Is Like Day As Two Beads In A Rosary, Unless Changes Of Weather Form The Only Variety.

Nevertheless, In This Sea Of Human Wretchedness And Malice There Bloomed At Times Compassion, As A Pale Flower Blooms In A Putrid Marsh.

In The Presence Of The Storm, Thunderbolts, Hurricane, Rain, Darkness, And The Lions, Which Might Be Concealed But A Few Paces Away, He Felt Disarmed And Helpless.

Wealth Is Not A Hindrance, But Rather A Help Towards Attaining A Proper Standing In A Chosen Field Of Activity. I Confess That As Far As I Am Concerned, It Has Done Me Some Service As It Preserved My Character From Many A Crookedness Poverty Might Have Exposed It To.

I Know From Experience That To One Who Thinks Much And Feels Deeply, It Often Seems That He Has Only To Put Down His Thoughts And Feelings In Order To Produce Something Altogether Out Of The Common; Yet As Soon As He Sets To Work He Falls Into A Certain Mannerism Of Style And Common Phraseology; His Thoughts Do Not Come Spontaneously, And One Might Almost Say That It Is Not The Mind That Directs The Pen, But The Pen Leads The Mind Into Common, Empty Artificiality.