Complacency Makes One As Guilty As Those

A Prison! Heav'ns, I Loath The Hated Name, Famine's Metropolis, The Sink Of Shame, A Nauseous Sepulchre, Whose Craving Womb Hourly Inters Poor Mortals In Its Tomb; By Ev'ry Plague And Ev'ry Ill Possess'd, Ev'n Purgatory Itself To Thee 's A Jest.

A Lost Trail Always Extends Beyond The Evidence, And Even The Trails We Find Are Only Fragments Of The Trails That Lie Beyond Our Comprehension.

There Are Paths And Ruts In The Spirit World As There Are In The Physical And Mental World. One Must Take The Tools Of The Spirit World And Make One's Own Path Rather Than Exactly Follow The Paths Of Those Who Once Were . . . You Must Not Seek Their Path And Their Understanding, But You Must Seek Your Own. The Ruts Of The Spirit Are Trying To Follow Others And It Cannot Be Done.

We Learned To Be Patient Observers Like The Owl. We Learned Cleverness From The Crow, And Courage From The Jay, Who Will Attack An Owl Ten Times Its Size To Drive It Off Its Territory. But Above All Of Them Ranked The Chickadee Because Of Its Indomitable Spirit.

I Don't See How Anybody Could Have A Passion For Nature Without Having An Equally Developed Tolerance For The Cold.