Youth Itself Is A Talent, A Perishable

The Game Of History Is Usually Played By The Best And The Worst Over The Heads Of The Majority In The Middle.

Our Achievements Speak For Themselves. What We Have To Keep Track Of Are Our Failures, Discouragements And Doubts. We Tend To Forget The Past Difficulties, The Many False Starts, And The Painful Groping. We See Our Past Achievements As The End Results Of A Clean Forward Thrust, And Our Present Difficulties As Signs Of Decline And Decay.

It Is The Child In Man That Is The Source Of His Uniqueness And Creativeness, And The Playground Is The Optimal Milieu For The Unfolding Of His Capacities And Talents.

Those Of Little Faith Are Of Little Hatred.

It Is Not At All Simple To Understand The Simple.