One Would Give Generous Alms If One

Superstition Is Part Of The Poetry Of Life.

Art Is Long, Life Short, Judgment Difficult, Opportunity Transient. To Act Is Easy, To Think Is Hard; To Act According To Our Thought Is Troublesome. Every Beginning Is Cheerful: The Threshold Is The Place Of Expectation.

The Person Of Analytic Or Critical Intellect Finds Something Ridiculous In Everything. The Person Of Synthetic Or Constructive Intellect, In Almost Nothing.

Names Are But Noise And Smoke, Obscuring Heavenly Light.

Sometimes I Don't Understand How Another Can Love Her, Is Allowed To Love Her, Since I Love Her So Completely Myself, So Intensely, So Fully, Grasp Nothing, Know Nothing, Have Nothing But Her!