A River Is More Than An Amenity,

To Us Who Remain Behind Is Left This Day Of Memories. Every Year--in The Full Tide Of Spring, At The Height Of The Symphony Of Flowers And Love And Life--there Comes A Pause, And Through The Silence We Hear The Lonely Pipe Of Death.

I Think That We Should Be Eternally Vigilant Against Attempts To Check The Expression Of Opinions That We Loathe And Believe To Be Fraught With Death, Unless They So Imminently Threaten Immediate Interference With The Lawful And Pressing Purposes Of The Law That An Immediate Check Is Required To Save The Country.

To Rest Upon A Formula Is A Slumber That, Prolonged, Means Death.

I Know Of No Teachers So Powerful And Persuasive As The Little Army Of Specialists. They Carry No Banners, They Beat No Drums; But Where They Are Men Learn That Bustle And Push Are Not The Equals Of Quiet Genius And Serene Mastery.

Most People Have Died Before They Expire; Died To All Earthly Longings, So That The Last Breath Is Only, As It Were, The Locking Of The Door Of The Already Deserted Mansion.