Dreams Have Only The Pigmentation Of Fact.

There Is Always More Surface To A Shattered Object Than A Whole.

To Love Without Criticism Is To Be Betrayed.

When One Wants To Become Cognizant Of The Color And The Texture Of The Soil, One Does Not Get A Ladder; One Gets A Shovel. When One Wants To Get Into Touch With The Texture Of The Universal Mind, One Does Not Go To Boston; One Goes To The Bowery.

Una's Face Was An Unbroken Block Of Calculation, Saving Where, Upon Her Upper Lip, A Little Down Of Hair Fluttered. Yet It Gave One An Uncanny Feeling. It Made One Think Of A Tassel On A Hammer.

Time Is A Great Conference Planning Our End, And Youth Is Only The Past Putting A Leg Forward.