I Think I Dislike What I Don't

Mighty Is The Force Of Motherhood! It Transforms All Things By Its Vital Heat.

The Scornful Nostril And The High Head Gather Not The Odors That Lie On The Track Of Truth.

These Fellow-mortals, Every One, Must Be Accepted As They Are: You Can Neither Straighten Their Noses, Nor Brighten Their Wit, Nor Rectify Their Dispositions; And It Is These People-amongst Whom Your Life Is Passed-that It Is Needful You Should Tolerate, Pity, And Love: It Is These More Or Less Ugly, Stupid, Inconsistent People Whose Movements Of Goodness You Should Be Able To Admire-for Whom You Should Cherish All Possible Hopes, All Possible Patience.

Nothing At Times Is More Expressive Than Silence.

Upon My Word, I Think The Truth Is The Hardest Missile One Can Be Pelted With.