Scratch Any Father, You Find / Someone

History Must Always Be Taken With A Grain Of Salt. It Is, After All, Not A Science But An Art.

The Saints Differ From Us In Their Exuberance, The Excess Of Our Human Talents. Moderation Is Not Their Secret. It Is In The Wildness Of Their Dreams, The Desperate Vitality Of Their Ambitions, That They Stand Apart From Ordinary People Of Good Will.

Mere Wealth, I Am Above It, / It Is The Reputation Wide, / The Playwright's Pomp, The Poet's Pride / That Eagerly I Covet.

To Be A Housewife Is A Difficult, A Wrenching, Sometimes An Ungrateful Job If It Is Looked On Only As A Job. Regarded As A Profession, It Is The Noblest As It Is The Most Ancient Of The Catalogue. Let None Persuade Us Differently Or The World Is Lost Indeed.

Scratch Any Father, You Find / Someone Chock-full Of Qualms And Romantic Terrors, / Believing Change Is A Threat.