To Me A Lush Carpet Of Pine

Our Democracy Is But A Name. We Vote? What Does That Mean? It Means That We Choose Between Two Bodies Of Real, Though Not Avowed, Autocrats. We Choose Between Tweedledum And Tweedledee.… You Ask For Votes For Women. What Good Can Votes Do When Ten-elevenths Of The Land Of Great Britain Belongs To 200,000 And Only One-eleventh To The Rest Of The 40,000,000? Have Your Men With Their Millions Of Votes Freed Themselves From This Injustice?

I Cannot But Say A Word And Look My Disapproval When I Hear That My Country Is Spending Millions For War And War Engines-more, I Have Heard, Than Twice As Much As The Entire Public School System Costs The Nation.

Happiness Is Like The Mountain Summit. It Is Sometimes Hidden By Clouds, But We Know It Is There.

I Sometimes Wonder If The Hand Is Not More Sensitive To The Beauties Of Sculpture Than The Eye. I Should Think The Wonderful Rhythmical Flow Of Lines And Curves Could Be More Subtly Felt Than Seen. Be This As It May, I Know That I Can Feel The Heart-throbs Of The Ancient Greeks In Their Marble Gods And Goddesses.

Reality Even When It Is Sad Is Better Than Illusions. Illusions Are At The Mercy Of Any Winds That Blow. Real Happiness Must Come From Within, From A Fixed Purpose And Faith In One's Fellow Men.