The Smallest Hair Throws Its Shadow. [ger.,

Those Who Make Use Of Devotion As A Means And End Generally Are Hypocrites.

Oh God, How Do The World And Heavens Confine Themselves, When Our Hearts Tremble In Their Own Barriers!

That Which Thy Fathers Have Bequeathed To Thee, Earn It Anew If Thou Wouldst Possess It.

Our Destiny Often Looks Like A Fruit-tree In Winter. Who Would Think From Its Pitiable Aspect That Those Rigid Boughs, Those Rough Twigs Could Next Spring Again Be Green, Bloom, And Even Bear Fruit? Yet We Hope It, We Know It.

A Stated Truth Loses Its Grace, But A Repeated Error Appears Insipid And Ridiculous.