Blessed Is He Who Has Never Been

The Greatest Poem Ever Known Is One All Poets Have Outgrown: The Poetry, Innate, Untold, Of Being Only Four Years Old.

Everybody Thinks Of Others As Being Excessively Human, With All The Frailties And Crotchets Appertaining To That Curious Condition. But Each Of Us Also Seems To Regard Himself As Existing On A Detached Plane Of Observation, Exempt (save In Moments Of Avid Crisis) From The Strange Whims Of Humanity En Masse.

Read, Every Day, Something No One Else Is Reading. Think, Every Day, Something No One Else Is Thinking. Do, Every Day, Something No One Else Would Be Silly Enough To Do. It Is Bad For The Mind To Continually Be Part Of Unanimity.

April Prepares Her Green Traffic Light And The World Thinks Go.

Fifty Percent Of The World Are Women, Yet They Always Seem A Novelty.