She Long Ago Accepted The Fact That

We All Of Us Need To Be Toppled Off The Throne Of Self, My Dear," He Said. "perched Up There The Tears Of Others Are Never Upon Our Own Cheek.

There Always Comes, I Think, A Sort Of Peak In Suffering At Which Either You Win Over Your Pain Or Your Pain Wins Over You, According As To Whether You Can, Or Cannot, Call Up That Extra Ounce Of Endurance That Helps You To Break Through The Circle Of Yourself And Do The Hitherto Impossible. That Extra Ounce Carries You Through 'le Dernier Quart D' Heure.' Psychologist Have A Name For It, I Believe. Christians Call It The Grace Of God.

One Was Born A Certain Sort Of Person, And Though By Ceasless Struggle One Might Become As Nice As That Sort Of Person Ever Is, One Could Never Become As Nice As A Nicer Sort Of Person.

This Modern Craze For Putting The Young In Positions Of Authority - Headmasters In Their Thirties, Bishops Without A Gray Hair On Their Heads, Generals Who Scarcely Need To Use A Razor - Ever Since It Took Hold The World's Gone Steadily Downhill.

Writers And Painters Have A Medium That Can Foster Self-effacements. Actors Haven't. An Actor Can't Hide Himself Behind Paper Or Canvas. If You're Not There Your Art's Not There. That's Why We Actors Are Often Such Self-centered Objects.