Man Has His Will, But Woman Has

A Few Can Touch The Magic String, And Noisy Fame Is Proud To Win Them: Alas For Those That Never Sing, But Die With All Their Music In Them!

Build Thee More Stately Mansions, O My Soul, As The Swift Seasons Roll! Leave Thy Low-vaulted Past! Let Each New Temple, Nobler Than The Last, Shut Thee From Heaven With A Dome More Vast, Till Thou At Length Art Free, Leaving Thine Outgrown Shell By Life's Unresting Sea!

What Refuge Is There For The Victim Who Is Oppressed With The Feeling That There Are A Thousand New Books He Ought To Read, While Life Is Only Long Enough For Him To Attempt To Read A Hundred?

The Year Is Getting To Feel Rich, For His Golden Fruits Are Ripening Fast, And He Has A Large Balance In The Barns, Which Are His Banks. The Members Of His Family Have Found Out That He Is Well To Do In The World. September Is Dressing Herself In Show Of Dahlias And Splendid Marigolds And Starry Zinnias. October, The Extravagant Sister, Has Ordered An Immense Amount Of The Most Gorgeous Forest Tapestry For Her Grand Reception.

When Men Have Realized That Time Has Upset Many Fighting Faiths, They May Come To Believe... That The Ultimate Good Desired Is Better Reached By Free Trade In Ideas-- That The Best Test Of Truth Is The Power Of The Thought To Get Itself Accepted In The Competition Of The Market, And That Truth Is The Only Ground Upon Which Their Wishes Safely Can Be Carried Out. That At Any Rate Is The Theory Of Our Constitution. It Is An Experiment. As All Life Is An Experiment. Every Year If Not Every Day We Wager Our Salvation Upon Some Prophecy Based Upon Imperfect Knowledge.