O God, How Lovely Still Is Life!

The Mind Is The Eyesight Of The Soul.

A Childlike Mind In Its Simplicity Practises That Science Of Good To Which The Wise May Be Blind.

The Zeal Of Friends It Is That Razes Me, And Not The Hate Of Enemies.

Why Should I Deem Myself To Be A Chisel, When I Could Be The Artist?

He That Is Over-cautious Will Accomplish But Very Little.