I Have Tried To Be Impartial, Though

The Past Is Not Dead. Indeed, It Is Often Not Even Past.

What If It Is For Life's Sake That We Must Die? In Truth We Are Not Individuals; And It Is Because We Think Ourselves Such That Death Seems Unforgivable. We Are Temporary Organs Of The Race, Cells In The Body Of Life; We Die And Drop Away That Life May Remain Young And Strong. If We Were To Live Forever, Growth Would Be Stifled, And Youth Would Find No Room On Earth. Death, Like Style, Is The Removal Of Rubbish, The Circumcision Of The Superfluous. In The Midst Of Death Life Renews Itself Immortally.

We Teach More By What We Are Than By What We Teach.

We Are What We Repeatedly Do. Excellence, Then, Is Not An Act, But A Habit.

There Is Hardly An Absurdity Of The Past That Cannot Be Found Flourishing Somewhere In The Present.