There Is No Book In The World

The Evil Done By Oneself, Self-begotten, Self-bred, Crushes The Foolish, As A Diamond Breaks A Precious Stone.

Is It Sin, Which Makes The Worm A Chrysalis, And The Chrysalis A Butterfly, And The Butterfly Dust?

I Believe I Can Even Yet Remember When I Saw The Stars For The First Time.

To Me This Technical Acceptation Seems Not Applicable Here, Where We Have To Deal With The Simplest Moral Precepts, And Not With Psychological Niceties Of Buddhist Philosophy.

A Flower Cannot Blossom Without Sunshine, And Man Cannot Live Without Love.