The Superstition In Which We Grew Up,

The More We See The More We Must Be Able To Imagine, And The More We Imagine, The More We Must Think We See.

It Is Medicine, Not Poison, I Offer You.

It Is Not Children Only That One Feeds With Fairy Tales.

Who Cannot Resolve Upon A Moment's Notice To Live His Own Life, He Forever Lives A Slave To Others.

My God, Grant That My Bounty May Be A Clear And Transparent River, Flowing From Pure Charity, And Uncontaminated By Self-love, Ambition, Or Interest. Thanks Are Due Not To Me, But Thee, From Whom All I Possess Is Derived. And What Are The Paltry Gifts For Which My Neighbor Forgets To Thank Me, Compared With The Immense Blessings For Which I Have So Often Forgotten To Be Grateful To Thee!