No Great Inner Event Befalls Those Who

At Every Crossroads On The Path That Leads To The Future, Tradition Has Placed 10,000 Men To Guard The Past.

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.

The Value Of Ourselves Is But The Value Of Our Melancholy And Our Disquiet.

At Every Crossway On The Path That Leads To The Future, Each Progressive Spirit Is Opposed By A Thousand Men Appointed To Guard The Past. Let Us Have No Fear That The Fair Towers Of Former Days Be Sufficiently Defended. The Least That The Most Timid Among Us Can Do Is Not To Add To The Immense Dead Weight That Nature Drags Along.

Many A Happiness In Life, A Many A Disaster, Is Due To Chance Alone; But The Peace Within Us Can Never Be Governed By Chance.