A Home Kept To The End Of

Truly Speaking, It Is Not Instruction, But Provocation, That I Can Receive From Another Soul. What He Announces, I Must Find True In Me, Or Reject; And On His Word, Or As His Second, Be He Who He May, I Can Accept Nothing.

Add Energy, Inspire Hope, And Blow The Coals Into A Useful Flame.

The Craft With Which The World Is Made Runs Also Into The Mind And Character Of Men. No Man Is Quite Sane; Each Has A Vein Of Folly In His Composition, A Slight Determination Of Blood To The Head, To Make Sure Of Holding Him Hard To Some One Point Which Nature Has Taken To Heart.

We Do Not Yet Possess Ourselves, And We Know At The Same Time That We Are Much More.

The Only Joy In His Being Mine, Is That The Not Mine Is Mine.