If You Want To Be Thought A

There Is More Felicity On The Far Side Of Baldness Than Young Men Can Possibly Imagine.

We Grow With Years More Fragile In Body, But Morally Stutter, And Can Throw Off The Chill Of A Bad Conscience Almost At Once.

But Why Wasn't I Born, Alas, In An Age Of Adjectives; Why Can One No Longer Write Of Silver-shedding Tears And Moon-tailed Peacocks, Of Eloquent Death, Of The Negro And Star-enameled Night?

Uncultivated Minds Are Not Full Of Wild Flowers, Like Uncultivated Fields. Villainous Weeds Grow In Them And They Are The Haunt Of Toads.

I Might Give My Life For My Friend, But He Had Better Not Ask Me To Do Up A Parcel.