What Man Is There That Does Not

Most Creatures Have A Vague Belief That A Very Precarious Hazard, A Kind Of Transparent Membrane, Divides Death From Love; And That The Profound Idea Of Nature Demands That The Giver Of Life Should Die At The Moment Of Giving.

What Man Is There That Does Not Laboriously, Though All Unconsciously, Himself Fashion The Sorrow That Is To Be The Pivot Of His Life.

Happiness Is Rarely Absent; It Is We That Know Not Of Its Presence.

No Living Creature, Not Even Man, Has Achieved, In The Centre Of His Sphere, What The Bee Has Achieved In Her Own: And Were Some One From Another World To Descend And Ask Of The Earth The Most Perfect Creation Of The Logic Of Life, We Should Needs Have To Offer The Humble Comb Of Honey.

I Am Moved By The Light.