Man Is A Living Lie--a Bitter Jest

Sympathy Wanting, All Is Wanting; Its Personal Magnetism Is The Conductor Of The Sacred Spark That Lights Our Atoms, Puts Us M Human Communion, And Gives Us To Company, Conversation, And Ourselves.

If The Ancients Left Us Ideas, To Our Credit Be It Spoken That We Moderns Are Building Houses For Them -- Structures Which Neither Plato Nor Archimedes Had Dreamed Possible.

Time Ripens The Substance Of A Life As The Seasons Mellow And Perfect Its Fruits. The Best Apples Fall Latest And Keep Longest.

Like Birds Of Passage, The Instincts Drift The Soul Adventurously Beyond The Horizon Of Sensible Things, As If Intent On Convoying It To The Mother Country From Whence It Had Flown.

Experience Converts Us To Ourselves When Books Fail Us.