O Pusillanimous Heart, Be Comforted

No Man Can Be Called Friendless Who Has God And The Companionship Of Good Books.

There's Nothing Great Nor Small, Has Said A Poet Of Our Day, Whose Voice Will Ring Beyond The Curfew Of Eve And Not Be Thrown Out By The Matin's Bell.

Whoever Lives True Life, Will Love True Love.

Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!

Most Illogical Irrational Nature Of Our Womanhood, That Blushes One Way, Feels Another Way, And Prays, Perhaps Another!