The Good Rain, Like A Bad Preacher,

When A Man Becomes A Conformist, He Is Sacrificing The Richness Of Independent Thinking.

No Member Of A Crew Is Praised For The Rugged Individuality Of His Rowing.

Every Body We Know Surrounds Himself With A Fine House, Fine Books, Conservatory, Gardens, Equipage, And All Manner Of Toys, As Screens To Interpose Between Himself And His Guest. Does It Not Seem As If Man Was Of A Very Sly, Elusive Nature, And Dreaded Nothing So Much As A Full Rencontre Front To Front With His Fellow?

Our Day Of Dependence, Our Long Apprenticeship To The Learning Of Other Lands, Draws To A Close. The Millions, That Around Us Arerushing Into Life, Cannot Always Be Fed On The Sere Remains Of Foreign Harvests.

Real Action Is In Silent Moments.