The Burden Of The Incommunicable.

Rightly It Is Said Of Utter, Utter Misery, That It 'cannot Be Remembered'; Itself, Being A Rememberable Thing, Is Swallowed Up In Its Own Chaos.

Either The Human Being Must Suffer And Struggle As The Price Of A More Searching Vision, Or His Gaze Must Be Shallow And Without Intellectual Revelation.

Flowers That Are So Pathetic In Their Beauty, Frail As The Clouds, And In Their Coloring As Gorgeous As The Heavens, Had Through Thousands Of Years Been The Heritage Of Children - Honored As The Jewelry Of God.

No Progressive Knowledge Will Ever Medicine That Dread Misgiving Of A Mysterious And Pathless Power Given To Words Of A Certain Import.

Nobody Will Laugh Long Who Deals Much With Opium: Its Pleasures Even Are Of A Grave And Solemn Complexion.