And On This Earth Of Ours There

It Is Death That Is The Guide Of Our Life, And Our Life Has No Goal But Death.

The Souls Of All Our Brethren Are Ever Hovering About Us, Craving For A Caress, And Only Waiting For The Signal.

Is Not Every Action Of Hamlet Induced By A Fanatical Impulse, Which Tells Him That Duty Consists In Revenge Alone? And Dose It Need Superhuman Efforts To Recognize That Revenge Never Can Be Duty? I Say Again That Hamlet Thinks Much, But That He Is By No Means Wise.

An Act Of Goodness Is Of Itself An Act Of Happiness. No Reward Coming After The Event Can Compare With The Sweet Reward That Went With It.

They Think That Nothing Will Happen Because They Have Closed Their Doors, And They Do Not Know That It Is In The Soul That Things Always Happen, And That The World Does Not End At Their Housedoor.