And Each Day Brings It's

And We Forget Because We Must And Not Because We Will.

Hither And Thither Spins The Wind-borne Mirroring Soul, A Thousand Glimpses Wins, And Never Sees A Whole.

Art Still Has Truth. Take Refuge There.

They... Who Await. No Gifts From Chance, Have Conquered Fate.

Culture, Then, Is A Study Of Perfection, And Perfection Which Insists On Becoming Something Rather Than In Having Something, In An Inward Condition Of The Mind And Spirit, Not In An Outward Set Of Circumstances.