Thought Is Invisible Nature.

Write . . . Write . . . Pencil . . . Paper.

The Eyes Of Spring, So Azure, Are Peeping From The Ground; They Are The Darling Violets, That I In Nosegays Bound.

Pretty Women Without Religion Are Like Flowers Without Perfume.

The Portuguese, Dutch And English Have Been For A Long Time Year After Year, Shipping Home The Treasures Of India In Their Big Vessels. We Germans Have Been All Along Been Left To Watch It. Germany Would Do Likewise, But Hers Would Be Treasures Of Spiritual Knowledge.

Man,--the Aristocrat Amongst The Animals.