Look Up . . . And See

[robin Stewart] Was Your Man. True For You, You Had Withdrawn The Crutch From His Sight, But Still It Should Have Been There In Your Hand, Ready For Him. For You Are A Leader-don't You Know It? I Don't, Surely, Need To Tell You?-and That Is What Leadership Means. It Means Fortifying The Fainthearted And Giving Them The Two Sides Of Your Tongue While You Are At It. It Means Suffering Weak Love And Schooling It Till It Matures. It Means Giving Up You Privicies, Your Follies And Your Leasure. It Means You Can Love Nothing And No One Too Much, Or You Are No Longer A Leader, You Are Led.

Verily, God Hath Eighteen Thousand Worlds; And Verily, Your World Is One Of Them, And This Its Bright Axle-tree.

For An Hour, Blended With All She Could Offer, Something Noble Had Been Created Which Had Nothing To Do With The Physical World. And From The Turn Of His Throat, The Warmth Of His Hair, The Strong, Slender Sinews Of His Hands, Something Further; Which Had. Though She Combed The Earth And Searched Through The Smoke Of The Galaxies There Was No Being She Wanted But This, Who Was Not And Should Not Be For Philippa Somerville.

Only Common Mortals Like The Somervilles Have Good Old Rotten Hates, Dear,' Said Her Mother. 'sir Graham Manages To Love Everybody And Wouldn't Know What You're Talking About. Have A Bun.' 'he Doesn't Love The Turks,' Said Philippa. 'he Kills Them.' 'that Isn't Hate,' Said Kate Somerville. 'that's Simply Hoeing Among One's Principles To Keep Them Healthy And Neat. I'm Sure He Would Tell You He Bears Them No Personal Grudge; And They Think They're Going To Paradise Anyway, So It Does Everyone Good.

Fools Make News, And Wise Men Carry It.