Wag The World How It Will, Leaves

Know, Thou, That The Lines That Live Are Turned Out Of A Furrowed Brow.

But The Past Is Passed; Why Moralize Upon It? Forget It. See, Yon Bright Son Has Forgotten It All, And The Blue Sea, And The Blue Sky; These Have Turned Over New Leaves. Because They Have No Memory . . . Because They Are Not Human.

Truth Uncompromisingly Told Will Always Have Its Ragged Edges.

...the Silent Reminiscence Of Hardships Departed, Is Sweeter Than The Presence Of Delight.

He Who Has Never Failed Somewhere, That Man Can Not Be Great.