The Greatest Homage To Truth Is To

We Are The Prisoners Of Ideas.

There Are As Many Pillows Of Illusion As Flakes In A Snow-storm. We Wake From One Dream Into Another Dream.

I Look On That Man As Happy, Who, When There Is Question Of Success, Looks Into His Work For A Reply.

We Can Only Be Valued As We Make Ourselves Valuable.

Nature Does Not Cocker Us: We Are Children, Not Pets: She Is Not Fond: Everything Is Dealt To Us Without Fear Or Favor, After Severe Universal Laws.