There Will Presently Be No Room In

Out Of The Fragrant Heart Of Bloom, The Bobolinks Are Singing; Out Of The Fragrant Heart Of Bloom The Apple-tree Whispers To The Room, "why Art Thou But A Nest Of Gloom While The Bobolinks Are Singing?

Do Not Trouble Yourselves About Standards Or Ideals; But Try To Be Faithful And Natural: Remember That There Is No Greatness, No Beauty, Which Does Not Come From Truth To Your Own Knowledge Of Things; And Keep On Working, Even If Your Work Is Not Long Remembered.

Each One Of Us Must Suffer Long To Himself Before He Can Learn That He Is But One In A Great Community Of Wretchedness Which Has Been Pitilessly Repeating Itself From The Foundation Of The World.

The Disposition To Give A Cup Of Cold Water To A Disciple Is A Far Nobler Property Than The Finest Intellect. Satan Has A Fine Intellect, But Not The Image Of God.

What The American Public Wants In The Theater Is A Tragedy With A Happy Ending.