A Dead Grief Is Easier To Bear

But Self-satisfaction, If As Buoyant As Gas, Has An Ugly Trick Of Collapsing When Full Blown, And Facts Are Stony Things That Refuse To Melt Away In The Sunshine Of A Smile.

No Rural Community, No Suburban Community, Can Ever Possess The Distinctive Qualities That City Dwellers Have For Centuries Given To The World.

Fair Play Is Less Characteristic Of Groups Than Of Individuals.

People Fed On Sugared Praises Cannot Be Expected To Feel An Appetite For The Black Broth Of Honest Criticism.

A Villain Must Be A Thing Of Power, Handled With Delicacy And Grace. He Must Be Wicked Enough To Excite Our Aversion, Strong Enough To Arouse Our Fear, Human Enough To Awaken Some Transient Gleam Of Sympathy. We Must Triumph In His Downfall, Yet Not Barbarously Nor With Contempt, And The Close Of His Career Must Be In Harmony With All Its Previous Development.