Love, And You Shall Be Loved.

Society Is A Wave. The Wave Moves Onward, But The Water Of Which It Is Composed Does Not.

Classics Which At Home Are Drowsily Read Have A Strange Charm In A Country Inn, Or In The Transom Of A Merchant Brig.

Life Is A Series Of Surprises.

The Maker Of A Sentence Launches Out Into The Infinite.

Is It Not Better To Intimate Our Astonishment As We Pass Through This World If It Be Only For A Moment Ere We Are Swallowed Up In The Yeast Of The Abyss? I Will Lift Up My Hands And Say Kosmos.