The Eye Is The Notebook

Good Heavens, Of What Un Costly Material Is Our Earthly Happiness Composed... If We Only Knew It. What Incomes Have We Not Had From A Flower, And How Unfailing Are The Dividends Of The Seasons.

The True Historical Genius, To Our Thinking, Is That Which Can See The Nobler Meaning Of Events That Are Near Him, As The True Poet Is He Who Detects The Divine In The Casual; And We Somewhat Suspect The Depth Of His Insight Into The Past Who Cannot Recognize The Godlike Of To-day Under That Disguise In Which It Always Visits Us.

Fate Loves Best Such Syllables As Are Sweet And Sonorous On The Tongue.

As One Lamp Lights Another, Nor Grows Less,so Nobleness Enkindleth Nobleness.

Humbleness Is Always Grace; Always Dignity