Men Are What Their Mothers Made Them.

The Rain Comes When The Wind Calls.

The Good Writer Seems To Be Writing About Himself, But Has His Eye Always On That Thread Of The Universe Which Runs Through Himself And All Things.

We Must Not Tamper With The Organic Motion Of The Soul.

Nature, Through All Her Kingdoms, Insures Herself.

Infancy Is The Perpetual Messiah, Which Comes Into The Arms Of Fallen Men, And Pleads With Them To Return To Paradise.