Knowledge Slowly Builds Up What Ignorance In

How Is It That The Poets Have Said So Many Fine Things About Our First Love, So Few About Our Later Love? Are Their First Poems Their Best? Or Are Not Those The Best Which Come From Their Fuller Thought, Their Larger Experience, Their Deeper-rooted Affections? The Boy's Flute-like Voice Has Its Own Spring Charm; But The Man Should Yield A Richer, Deeper Music.

A Woman's Hopes Are Woven Of Sunbeams; A Shadow Annihilates Them.

Men Can Do Nothing Without The Make-believe Of A Beginning.

Don't Let Us Rejoice In Punishment, Even When The Hand Of God Alone Inflicts It. The Best Of Us Are But Poor Wretches, Just Saved From Shipwreck. Can We Feel Anything But Awe And Pity When We See A Fellow-passenger Swallowed By The Waves?

We Mustn't Be In A Hurry To Fix And Choose Our Own Lot; We Must Wait To Be Guided.