As In An Explosion, I Would Erupt

Oh, How One Wishes Sometimes To Escape From The Meaningless Dullness Of Human Eloquence, From All Those Sublime Phrases, To Take Refuge In Nature, Apparently So Inarticulate, Or In The Wordlessness Of Long, Grinding Labor, Of Sound Sleep, Of True Music, Or Of A Human Understanding Rendered Speechless By Emotion!

What Is History? Its Beginning Is That Of The Centuries Of Systematic Work Devoted To The Solution Of The Enigma Of Death, So That Death Itself May Eventually Be Overcome. That Is Why People Write Symphonies, And Why They Discover Mathematical Infinity And Electromagnetic Waves.

And Remember: You Must Never, Under Any Circumstances, Despair. To Hope And To Act, These Are Our Duties In Misfortune.

He Is Her Glory. Any Woman Could Say It. For Every One Of Them, God Is In Her Child. Mothers Of Great Men Must Have Been Familiar With This Feeling, But Then, All Women Are Mothers Of Great Men -- It Isn't Their Fault If Life Disappoints Them Later.

Failure To Love Is Almost Like Murder.