We Say And Exclaim Within Ourselves Without

Whenever We Encounter The Infinite In Man, However Imperfectly Understood, We Treat It With Respect. Whether In The Synagogue, The Mosque, The Pagoda, Or The Wigwam, There Is A Hideous Aspect Which We Execrate And A Sublime Aspect Which We Venerate. So Great A Subject For Spiritual Contemplation, Such Measureless Dreaming - The Echo Of God On The Human Wall!

In Every Cradle Decked With Rosy Wreath Lurk Germs Of Death.

A Wedding Is Not House-keeping.

There Are No Weeds, And No Worthless Men. There Are Only Bad Farmers.

Be As A Bird Perched On A Frail Branch That She Feels Bending Beneath Her, Still She Sings Away All The Same, Knowing She Has Wings.