A Man Never Sees All That His

The Swelling And Towering Omnibuses, The Huge Trucks And Wagons And Carriages, The Impetuous Hansoms And The More Sobered Four-wheelers, The Pony-carts, Donkey-carts, Hand-carts, And Bicycles Which Fearlessly Find Their Way Amidst The Turmoil, With Foot-passengers Winding In And Out, And Covering The Sidewalks With Their Multitude, Give The Effect Of A Single Monstrous Organism, Which Writhes Swiftly Along The Channel Where It Had Run In The Figure Of A Flood Till You Were Tired Of That Metaphor. You Are Now A Molecule Of That Vast Organism.

I Wonder Why We Hate The Past So.

What The American Public Wants In The Theater Is A Tragedy With A Happy Ending.

Lord, For The Erring Thoughtnot Into Evil Wrought:lord, For The Wicked Willbetrayed And Baffled Still:for The Heart From Itself Kept,our Thanksgiving Accept.

It's A Curious Thing, This Thing We Call Civilization...we Think It Is An Affair Of Epochs, And Nations. It's Really An Affair Of Individuals. One Brother Will Be Civilized And The Other A Barbarian...all Civilization Comes Through Literature Now, Especially In Our Country. A Greek Got His Civilization By Talking And Looking, And In Some Measure A Parisian May Still Do It. But We, Who Live Remote From History And Monuments, We Must Read Or We Must Barbarise.