Man Becomes Man Only By His Intelligence,

It Gives Liberty And Breadth To Thought, To Learn To Judge Our Own Epoch From The Point Of View Of Universal History, History From The Point Of View Of Geological Periods, Geology From The Point Of View Of Astronomy.

Each Bud Flowers But Once And Each Flower Has But Its Minute Of Perfect Beauty; So, In The Garden Of The Soul Each Feeling Has, As It Were, Its Flowering Instant, Its One And Only Moment Of Expansive Grace And Radiant Kingship.

How True It Is That Our Destinies Are Decided By Nothings And That A Small Imprudence Helped By Some Insignificant Accident, As An Acorn Is Fertilized By A Drop Of Rain, May Raise The Trees On Which Perhaps We And Others Shall Be Crucified.

Analysis Kills Spontaneity. The Grain Once Ground Into Flour Springs And Germinates No More.

Without Passion Man Is A Mere Latent Force And Possibility, Like The Flint Which Awaits The Shock Of The Iron Before It Can Give Forth Its Spark.