I Heard The Spring Light Whisper Above

There Is A Passion For Perfection Which You Will Rarely See Fully Developed; But You May Note This Fact, That In Successful Lives It Is Never Wholly Lacking.

Set Me A Task In Which I Can Put Something Of My Very Self, And It Is A Task No Longer; It Is Joy; It Is Art.

The Scarlet Of The Maples Can Shake Me Like A Cry Of Bugles Going By. And My Lonely Spirit Thrills To See The Frosty Asters Like A Smoke Upon The Hills.

A 'fact' Merely Marks The Point Where We Have Agreed To Let Investigation Cease.

Thank God For Poverty That Makes And Keeps Us Free And Lets Us Go Our Unobtrusive Way, Glad Of The Sun And Rain, Upright, Serene, Humane, Contented With The Fortune Of A Day.