The Pathos Of Life Is Worse Than

As Far Back As I Remember, Long Before I Could Write, I Had Played At Making Stories. But Not Until I Was Seven Or More, Did I Begin To Pray Every Night, "o God, Let Me Write Books! Please, God, Let Me Write Books!"

The Pathos Of Life Is Worse Than The Tragedy.

Surely One Of The Peculiar Habits Of Circumstances Is The Way They Follow, In Their Eternal Recurrence, A Single Course. If An Event Happens Once In A Life, It May Be Depended Upon To Repeat Later Its General Design.

No Matter How Vital Experience Might Be While You Lived It, No Sooner Was It Ended And Dead Than It Became As Lifeless As The Piles Of Dry Dust In A School History Book.

All Change Is Not Growth, As All Movement Is Not Forward.