The Life Of The Soul Is Incalculable.

But The Golden-rod Is One Of The Fairy, Magical Flowers; It Grows Not Up To Seek Human Love Amid The Light Of Day, But To Mark To The Discerning What Wealth Lies Hid In The Secret Caves Of Earth.

Very Early, I Knew That The Only Object In Life Was To Grow.

Certainly I Do Not Wish That Instead Of These Masters I Had Read Baby Books, Written Down To Children, And With Such Ignorant Dullness That They Blunt The Sense And Corrupt The Tastes Of The Still Plastic Human Being. But I Do Wish That I Had Read No Books At All Till Later - That I Had Lived With Toys, And Played In The Open Air. Children Should Not Cull The Fruits Of Reflection And Observation Early, But Expand In The Sun, And Let Thoughts Come To Them. They Should Not Through Books Antedate Their Actual Experiences.

The Only Woman To Whom It Has Been Given To Touch What Is Decisive In The Present World And To Have A Presentiment Of The World Of The Future.

I Know Of No Inquiry Which The Impulses Of Man Suggests That Is Forbidden To The Resolution Of Man To Pursue.