For Self Is The Lord Of Self,

Thus One Memory Follows Another Until The Waves Dash Together Over Our Heads, And A Deep Sigh Swells The Breast, Which Warns Us That We Have Forgotten To Breathe In The Midst Of These Pure Thoughts.

The Morning Hour Has Gold At The Mouth.

Christianity Is A Missionary Religion, Converting, Advancing, Aggressive, Encompassing The World; A Non-missionary Church Is In The Bands Of Death.

To Me This Technical Acceptation Seems Not Applicable Here, Where We Have To Deal With The Simplest Moral Precepts, And Not With Psychological Niceties Of Buddhist Philosophy.

Hunger Is The Worst Of Diseases, The Body The Greatest Of Pains; If One Knows This Truly, That Is Nirv?na, The Highest Happiness.