Who So Loves Believes The Impossible.

The Beautiful Seems Right By Force Of Beauty And The Feeble Wrong Because Of Weakness.

The Music Soars Within The Little Lark, And The Lark Soars.

The Man, Most Man, Works Best For Men, And, If Most Men Indeed, He Gets His Manhood Plainest From His Soul: While, Obviously, This Stringent Soul Itself Obeys Our Old Rules Of Development; The Spirit Ever Witnessing In Ours, And Love, The Soul Of Soul, Within The Soul, Evolving It Sublimely.

Like To Write? Of Course, Of Course I Do. I Seem To Live While I Write - It Is Life, For Me.

There Shakespeare, On Whose Forehead Climb The Crowns O' The World; Oh, Eyes Sublime With Tears And Laughter For All Time!