If You Want Learning, You

Many Men And Women Spend Their Lives In Unsuccessful Attempts To Spin The Flax God Sends Them Upon A Wheel They Can Never Use.

The Temple Of Art Is Built Of Words. Painting And Sculpture And Music Are But The Blazon Of Its Windows, Borrowing All Their Significance From The Light, And Suggestive Only Of The Temple's Uses.

All Things Unrevealed Belong To The Kingdom Of Mystery.

The Sweetest Type Of Heaven Is Home - Nay, Heaven Is The Home For Whose Acquisition We Are To Strive The Most Strongly. Home, In One Form And Another, Is The Great Object Of Life. It Stands At The End Of Every Day's Labor, And Beckons Us To Its Bosom; An Life Would Be Cheerless And Meaningless, Did We Not Discern Across The River That Divides Us From The Life Beyond, Glimpses Of The Pleasant Mansions Prepared For Us.

A Man Who In The Struggles Of Life Has No Home To Retire To, In Fact Or In Memory, Is Without Life's Best Rewards And Life's Best Defences.