One Always Has Time Enough, If One

And Here, Poor Fool, With All My Lore I Stand No Wiser Than Before.

A Really Great Talent Finds Its Happiness In Execution.

Mysteries Are Not Necessarily Miracles.

As For Solitude, I Cannot Understand How Certain People Seek To Lay Claim To Intellectual Stature, Nobility Of Soul And Strength Of Character, Yet Have Not The Slightest Feeling For Seclusion; For Solitude, I Maintain, When Joined With A Quiet Contemplation Of Nature, A Serene And Conscious Faith In Creation And The Creator, And A Few Vexations From Outside Is The Only School For A Mind Of Lofty Endowment.

We Often Feel That We Lack Something, And Seem To See That Very Quality In Someone Else, Promptly Attributing All Our Own Qualities To Him Too, And A Kind Of Ideal Contentment As Well. And So The Happy Mortal Is A Model Of Complete Perfection--which We Have Ourselves Created.