A Lover Without Indiscretion Is No Lover

It Was The Touch Of The Imperfect Upon The Would-be Perfect That Gave The Sweetness, Because It Was That Which Gave The Humanity

Weathers This Is The Weather The Cuckoo Likes, And So Do I; When Showers Betumble The Chestnut Spikes, And Nestlings Fly; And The Little Brown Nightingale Bills His Best, And They Sit Outside At 'the Traveller's Rest,' And Maids Come Forth Sprig-muslin Drest, And Citizens Dream Of The South And West, And So Do I. This Is The Weather The Shepherd Shuns, And So Do I; When Beeches Drip In Browns And Duns, And Thresh And Ply; And Hill-hid Tides Throb, Throe On Throe, And Meadow Rivulets Overflow, And Drops On Gate Bars Hang In A Row, And Rooks In Families Homeward Go, And So Do I.

Remember That The Best And Greatest Among Mankind Are Those Who Do Themselves No Worldly Good. Every Successful Man Is More Or Less A Selfish Man. The Devoted Fail.

You, And Those Like You, Take Your Fill Of Pleasure On Earth By Making The Life Of Such As Me Bitter And Black With Sorrow; And Then It Is A Fine Thing, When You Have Had Enough Of That, To Think Of Securing Your Pleasure In Heaven By Becoming Converted!

And At Home By The Fire, Whenever You Look Up There I Shall Be— And Whenever I Look Up, There Will Be You. -gabriel Oak