The Placer Is An Enemy Who Must

All Miracles Are Promised To Faith, And What Is Faith Except The Audacity Of Will Which Does Not Hesitate In The Darkness, But Advances Towards The Light In Spite Of All Ordeals, And Surmounting All Obstacles?

One Can Only Define The Unknown By Its Supposed And Supposable Relations With The Known.

To Practice Magic Is To Be A Quack; To Know Magic Is To Be A Sage.

Passing Beauties Are Only The Fugitive Reflectios Of The Eternal.

Up To One's Last Breath, One May Retain The Simple Joys Of Childhood, The Poetic Ecstasies Of The Young Person, The Enthusiasms Of Maturity. Right To The End, One May Intoxicate One's Spirit With Flowers, With Beauty And With Smiles.