There Is No Soul That Does Not

An Act Of Goodness Is Of Itself An Act Of Happiness.

If You Love Yourself Meanly, Childishly, Timidly, Even So Shall You Love Your Neighbor.

The Living Are Just The Dead On Holiday

Wisdom Requires No Form; Her Beauty Must Vary, As Varies The Beauty Of Flame. She Is No Motionless Goddess, For Ever Couched On Her Throne.

Sacrifice May Be A Flower That Virtue Will Pluck On Its Road, But It Was Not To Gather This Flower That Virtue Set Forth On Its Travels.