The Air Came Laden With The Fragrance

If There Were No Bad People, There Would Be No Good Lawyers.

Not Knowing How He Lost Himself, Or How He Recovered Himself, He May Never Feel Certain Of Not Losing Himself Again.

A Smattering Of Everything, And A Knowledge Of Nothing.

At The Great Iron Gate Of The Churchyard He Stopped And Looked In. He Looked Up At The High Tower Spectrally Resisting The Wind, And He Looked Round At The White Tombstones, Like Enough To The Dead In Their Winding-sheets, And He Counted The Nine Tolls Of The Clock-bell.

You Are Always Training Yourself To Be, Mind And Body, As Clear As Crystal, And You Always Are, And Never Change; Whereas I Am A Muddy, Solitary, Moping Weed.