We Never Know What's In Us Till

Published Memoirs Indicate The End Of A Man's Activity, And That He Acknowledges The End.

Days, When The Ball Of Our Vision Had Eagles That Flew Unabashed To Sun; When The Graps On The Bow Was Decision, And Arrow And Hand And Eye Were One; When The Pleasures, Like Waves To A Swimmer, Came Heaving For Rapture Ahead! - Invoke Them, They Dwindle, They Glimmer As Lights Over Mounds Of The Dead.

The Man Who Has No Mind Of His Own Lends It To The Priests.

Perfect Simplicity Is Unconsciously Audacious.

O Have A Care Of Natures That Are Mute!