Art Still Has Truth. Take Refuge There.

When Byron's Eyes Were Shut In Death, We Bow'd Our Head And Held Our Breath. He Taught Us Little; But Our Soul Had Felt His Like A Thunder Roll. . . . We Watch'd The Fount Of Fiery Life Which Serv'd For That Titanic Life.

God's Wisdom And God's Goodness!--ah, But Fools Mis-define Thee, Till God Knows Them No More. Wisdom And Goodness They Are God!--what Schools Have Yet So Much As Heard This Simpler Lore. This No Saint Preaches, And This No Church Rules: 'tis In The Desert, Now And Heretofore.

What Actions Are The Most Excellent? Those, Certainly, Which Most Powerfully Appeal To The Great Primary Human Affections: To Those Elementary Feelings Which Subsist Permanently In The Race, And Which Are Independent Of Time. These Feelings Are Permanent And The Same; That Which Interests Them Is Permanent And The Same Also.

Journalism Is Literature In A Hurry.

The Sophist Sneers: Fool, Take Thy Pleasure, Right Or Wrong! The Pious Wail: Forsake A World These Sophists Throng! Be Neither Saint Nor Sophist-led, But Be A Man.