The Mind Sees The World As A

This Is A Man With An Old Face, Always Old... There Was Pathos, In His Face, And In His Eyes. The Early Weariness; And Sometimes Tears In His Eyes, Which He Let Slip Unconsciously On His Cheek, Or Brushed Away With An Unconcerned Hand. There Were Tears For Human Suffering, Or For A Glance Into The Vast Futility Of Life, Which He Had Seen From The First, Being Old When He Was Born.

To This Generation I Would Say: Memorize Some Bit Of Verse Of Truth Or Beauty.

He Stripped Off The Armor Of Institutional Friendships To Dedictate His Soul To The Terrible Deities Of Truth And Beauty.

. . . The Weal Of The Race, And The Cause Of Humanity, Here And Now, Are Enough To Give Life Meaning And Death As Well.

There Is No Marriage In Heaven, But There Is Love.