We Ought To Be Ten Times As

I Read For Three Things; First, To Know What The World Has Done The Last Twenty-four Hours, And Is About To Do Today; Second, For The Knowledge That I Specially Want In My Work; And Third, For What Will Bring My Mind Into A Proper Mood.

The Worst Prison Is Not Of Stone. It Is Of A Throbbing Heart, Outraged By An Infamous Life.

Storms Purify The Atmosphere.

We Sleep, But The Loom Of Life Never Stops, And The Pattern Which Was Weaving When The Sun Went Down Is Weaving When It Comes Up In The Morning.

Our Children That Die Young Are Like Those Spring Bulbs Which Have Their Flowers Prepared Beforehand, And Leave Nothing To Do But To Break Ground, And Blossom, And Pass Away. Thank God For Spring Flowers Among Men, As Well As Among The Grasses Of The Field.