We Were Not Sent Into This World

Man's Only True Happiness Is To Live In Hope Of Something To Be Won By Him.

Once Thoroughly Our Own, The Knowledge Ceases To Give Us Pleasure.

He Who Offers God A Second Place Offers Him No Place.

The Sculptor Must Paint With His Chisel; Half His Touches Are Not To Realize, But To Put Power Into, The Form. They Are Touches Of Light And Shadow, And Raise A Ridge, Or Sink A Hollow, Not To Represent An Actual Ridge Or Hollow, But To Get A Line Of Light, Or A Spot Of Darkness.

There Is In Every Animal's Eye A Dim Image And Gleam Of Humanity, A Flash Of Strange Light Through Which Their Life Looks Out And Up To Our Great Mystery Of Command Over Them, And Claims The Fellowship Of The Creature If Not Of The Soul.