Poetry; A Criticism Of Life

Most Men Eddy About Here And There-eat And Drink, Chatter And Love And Hate, Gather And Squander, Are Raised Aloft, Are Hurled In The Dust, Striving Blindly, Achieving Nothing; And Then They Die- Perish;-and No One Asks Who Or What They Have Been.

Whoever Sets Himself To See Things As They Are Will Find Himself One Of A Very Small Circle But It Is Only By This Small Circle Resolutely Doing Its Own Work That Adequate Ideas Will Ever Get Current At All.

All Pains The Immortal Spirit Must Endure, All Weakness That Impairs, All Griefs That Bow, Find Their Sole Voice In That Victorious Brow.

Miracles Do Not Happen.

The Love Of Science, And The Energy And Honesty In The Pursuit Of Science, In The Best Of The Aryan Races Do Seem To Correspond In A Remarkable Way To The Love Of Conduct, And The Energy And Honesty In The Pursuit Of Conduct, In The Best Of The Semitic.