For One Thing, I Know

It Is The Mind Which Creates The World Around Us, And Even Though We Stand Side By Side In The Same Meadow, My Eyes Will Never See What Is Beheld By Yours, My Heart Will Never Stir To The Emotions With Which Yours Is Touched.

Have The Courage Of Your Desire.

And Why Should Any Man Who Writes, Even If He Writes Things Immortal, Nurse Anger At The World's Neglect? Who Asked Him To Publish? Who Promised Him A Hearing? Who Has Broken Faith With Him? Your Poem, Your Novel, Who Bargained With You For It?

It Is Because Nations Tend Towards Stupidity And Baseness That Mankind Moves So Slowly; It Is Because Individuals Have A Capacity For Better Things That It Moves At All.

That Is One Of The Bitter Curses Of Poverty; It Leaves No Right To Be Generous.