When The Eyes Of The Flesh Are

If Youth Did Not Matter So Much To Itself, It Would Never Have The Heart To Go On.

A Burnt Dog Dreads The Fire.

Give The People A New Word And They Think They Have A New Fact.

In New Mexico, He Always Awoke A Young Man, Not Until He Arose And Began To Shave Did He Realize That He Was Growing Older. His First Consciousness Was A Sense Of The Light Dry Wind Blowing In Through The Windows, With The Fragrance Of Hot Sun And Sage-brush And Sweet Clover; A Wind That Made One's Body Feel Light And One's Heart Cry 'to-day, To-day,' Like A Child's.

No One Can Build His Security Upon The Nobleness Of Another Person.