Done Because We Are Too Many.

Love Is A Possible Strength In An Actual Weakness.

The Sky Was Clear - Remarkably Clear - And The Twinkling Of All The Stars Seemed To Be But Throbs Of One Body, Timed By A Common Pulse.

Backlock, A Poet Blind From His Birth, Could Describe Visual Objects With Accuracy; Professor Sanderson, Who Was Also Blind, Gave Excellent Lectures On Color, And Taught Others The Theory Of Ideas Which They Had And He Had Not. In The Social Sphere These Gifted Ones Are Mostly Women; They Can Watch A World Which They Never Saw, And Estimate Forces Of Which They Have Only Heard. We Call It Intuition.

The Social Mould Civilization Fits Us Into Have No More Relation To Our Actual Shapes Than The Conventional Shapes Of The Constellations Have To The Real Star-patterns. I Am Called Mrs. Richard Phillotson, Living A Calm Wedded Life With My Counterpart Of That Name. But I Am Not Really Mrs. Richard Phillotson, But A Woman Tossed About, All Alone, With Aberrant Passions, And Unaccountable Antipathies.

Remember That The Best And Greatest Among Mankind Are Those Who Do Themselves No Worldly Good. Every Successful Man Is More Or Less A Selfish Man. The Devoted Fail.