Horrible To Say, In A Manner I

When We Hew Or Delve: After-comers Cannot Guess The Beauty Been.

The Indian Gods Are Imposing, The Greek Gods Are Not. Indeed They Are Not Brave, Not Self-controlled, They Have No Manners, They Are Not Gentlemen And Ladies.

I Hold With The Old-fashioned Criticism That Browning Is Not Really A Poet, That He Has All The Gifts But The One Needful And The Pearls Without The String; Rather One Should Say Raw Nuggets And Rough Diamonds.

To Lift Up The Hands In Prayer Gives God Glory, But A Man With A Dungfork In His Hand, A Woman With A Slop Pail, Give Him Glory, Too. God Is So Great That All Things Give Him Glory If You Mean That They Should.

For I Think It Is The Case With Genius That It Is Not When Quiescent So Very Much Above Mediocrity As The Difference Between The Two Might Lead Us To Think, But That It Has The Power And Privilege Of Rising From That Level To A Height Utterly Far From Mediocrity: In Other Words That Its Greatness Is That It Can Be So Great.