Think Of The Man Who

There Is No Fun In Doing Nothing When You Have Nothing To Do. Wasting Time Is Merely An Occupation Then, And A Most Exhausting One.

A New Life Begins For Us With Every Second. Let Us Go Forward Joyously To Meet It. We Must Press On, Whether We Will Or Not, And We Shall Walk Better With Our Eyes Before Us Than With Them Ever Cast Behind.

I Can't Sit Still And See Another Man Slaving And Working. I Want To Get Up And Superintend, And Walk Round With My Hands In My Pockets, And Tell Him What To Do. It Is My Energetic Nature. I Can't Help It.

(speaking Of The Cistercian Monks) A Grim Fraternity, Passing Grim Lives In That Sweet Spot, That God Had Made So Bright! Strange That Nature's Voices All Around Them--the Soft Singing Of The Waters, The Wisperings Of The River Grass, The Music Of The Rushing Wind--should Not Have Taught Them A Truer Meaning Of Life Than This. They Listened There, Through The Long Days, In Silence, Waiting For A Voice From Heaven; And All Day Long And Through The Solemn Night It Spoke To Them In Myriad Tones, And They Heard It Not.

If He Were A Man Of Strong Mind, It Only Gave Him Fits; But A Person Of Mere Average Intellect It Usually Sent Mad.