Failure After Long Perseverance Is Much Grander

There's Folks 'ud Stand On Their Heads And Then Say The Fault Was I' Their Boots.

Every Limit Is A Beginning As Well As An Ending.

Will Not A Tiny Speck Very Close To Our Vision Blot Out The Glory Of The World, And Leave Only A Margin By Which We See The Blot? I Know No Speck So Troublesome As Self.

What Quarrel, What Harshness, What Unbelief In Each Other Can Subsist In The Presence Of A Great Calamity, When All The Artificial Vesture Of Our Life Is Gone, And We Are All One With Each Other In Primitive Mortal Needs?

The Beauty Of A Lovely Woman Is Like Music.