The Love Of One Sole Being Is

The Hour-hand Of Life --- Life Consists Of Rare, Isolated Moments Of The Greatest Significance, And Of Innumerably Many Intervals, During Which At Best The Silhouettes Of Those Moments Hover About Us. Love, Springtime, Every Beautiful Melody, Mountains, The Moon, The Sea - All These Speak Completely To The Heart But Once, If In Fact They Ever Do Get A Chance To Speak Completely. For Many Men Do Not Have Those Moments At All, And Are Themselves Intervals And Intermissions In The Symphony Of Real Life.

I Notice That Autumn Is More The Season Of The Soul Than Of Nature.

Too Long, The Earth Has Been A Madhouse!

If You Know The Why, You Can Live Any How.

To One Who Is Accustomed To Thinking A Lot, Every New Thought That He Hears Or Reads About Immediately Appears As A Link In A Chain.