Science Does Not Know Its Debt To

The Connection Between Our Knowledge And The Abyss Of Being Is Still Real, And The Explication Must Be Not Less Magnificent.

Rings And Jewels Are Not Gifts, But Apologies For Gifts. The Only Gift Is A Portion Of Thyself. Thou Must Bleed For Me. Therefore The Poet Brings His Poem; The Shepherd, His Lamb; The Farmer, Corn; The Miner, A Stone; The Painter, His Picture; The Girl, A Handkerchief Of Her Own Sewing.

Power Is What They Want, Not Candy-power To Execute Their Design, Power To Give Legs And Feet, Form And Actuality To Their Thought; Which, To A Clear-sighted Man, Appears The End For Which The Universe Exists, And All Its Resources Might Be Well Applied.

Few And Mean As My Gifts May Be, I Actually Am, And Do Not Need For My Own Assurance Or The Assurance Of My Fellows Any Secondary Testimony.

You Have A Place To Live In This World Which No Other Man Can Occupy; Hence No Competitors.