I Find That The Americans Have No

A Man Is A God In Ruins.

We Cannot Describe The Natural History Of The Soul, But We Know That It Is Divine. All Things Are Known To The Soul. It Is Not To Be Surprised By Any Communication. Nothing Can Be Greater Than It, Let Those Fear And Those Fawn Who Will. The Soul Is In Her Native Realm; And It Is Wider Than Space, Older Than Time, Wide As Hope, Rich As Love. Pusillanimity And Fear She Refuses With A Beautiful Scorn; They Are Not For Her Who Putteth On Her Coronation Robes, And Goes Out Through Universal Love To Universal Power.

Manners Make The Fortune Of The Ambitious Youth.

We Sell The Thrones Of Angels For A Short And Turbulent Pleasure.

One Of The Illusions Of Life Is That The Present Hour Is Not The Critical, Decisive One.