In Many Walks Of Life, A Conscience

It Is An Impressive Truth That Sometimes In The Very Lowest Forms Of Duty, Less Than Which Would Rank A Man As A Villain, There Is, Nevertheless The Sublimest Ascent Of Self-sacrifice. To Do Less Would Class You As An Object Of Eternal Scorn, To Do So Much Presumes The Grandeur Of Heroism.

Either The Human Being Must Suffer And Struggle As The Price Of A More Searching Vision, Or His Gaze Must Be Shallow And Without Intellectual Revelation.

Grief Even In A Child Hates The Light And Shrinks From Human Eyes.

Even Imperfection Itself May Have Its Ideal Or Perfect State.

It Is Notorious That The Memory Strengthens As You Lay Burdens Upon It, And Becomes Trustworthy As You Trust It.