Each Man Has His Own Batch Of

Anxiety Destroys Scale, And Suffering Makes Us Lose Perspective.

There Is Simply Too Much To Think About.

Goodness Is Achieved Not In A Vacuum, But In The Company Of Other Men, Attended By Love.

The Soul Has To Find And Hold Its Ground Against Hostile Forces, Sometimes Embodied In Ideas Which Frequently Deny Its Very Existence, And Which Indeed Often Seem To Be Trying To Annul It Altogether.

It Is A Joy To Be Choked With Thought.