There Comes An Hour When

The Soul Has Greater Need Of The Ideal Than Of The Real

Every Body Drags Its Shadow, And Every Mind Its Doubt.

Reality In Strong Doses Frightens.

The Peculiarity Of Sunrise Is To Make Us Laugh At All Our Terrors Of The Night, And Our Laugh Is Always Proportioned To The Fear We Have Had.

Large, Heavy, Ragged Black Clouds Hung Like Crape Hammocks Beneath The Starry Cope Of The Night. You Would Have Said That They Were The Cobwebs Of The Firmament.