It Is Not Well For A Man

A Man Is A Fool Who Sits Looking Backward From Himself In The Past. Ah, What Shallow, Vain Conceit There Is In Man! Forget The Things That Are Behind. That Is Not Where You Live. Your Roots Are Not There. They Are In The Present; And You Should Reach Up Into The Other Life.

Anger Is A Bow That Will Shoot Sometimes Where Another Feeling Will Not.

Your Honors Here May Serve You For A Time, As It Were For An Hour, But They Will Be Of No Use To You Beyond This World. Nobody Will Have Heard A Word Of Your Honors In The Other Life. Your Glory, Your Shame, Your Ambitions, And All The Treasures For Which You Push Hard And Sacrifice Much Will Be Like Wreaths Of Smoke. For These Things, Which You Mostly Seek, And For Which You Spend Your Life Only Tarry With You While You Are On This Side Of The Flood.

Blessed Be The Man Whose Work Drives Him. Something Must Drive Men; And If It Is Wholesome Industry, They Have No Time For A Thousand Torments And Temptations.

That Endless Book, The Newspaper, Is Our National Glory.