Why Art Thou But A Nest Of

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.

There Will Presently Be No Room In The World For Things; It Will Be Filled Up With The Advertisements Of Things.

Why Art Thou But A Nest Of Gloom While The Bobolinks Are Singing?

The Conqueror Is Regarded With Awe; The Wise Man Commands Our Respect; But It Is Only The Benevolent Man That Wins Our Affection.

It Is The Curse Of Prosperity That It Takes Work Away From Us, And Shuts That Door To Hope And Health Of Spirit.