Tolerance Becomes A Crime When

One Must Die To Life In Order To Be Utterly A Creator.

This Was Love At First Sight, Love Everlasting: A Feeling Unknown, Unhoped For, Unexpected--in So Far As It Could Be A Matter Of Conscious Awareness; It Took Entire Possession Of Him, And He Understood, With Joyous Amazement, That This Was For Life.

For The Sake Of Goodness And Love, Man Shall Let Death Have No Sovereignty Over His Thoughts.

A Lonely, Quiet Person Has Observations And Experiences That Are At Once Both More Indistinct And More Penetrating Than Those Of One More Gregarious; His Thoughts Are Weightier, Stranger, And Never Without A Tinge Of Sadness. . . . Loneliness Fosters That Which Is Original, Daringly And Bewilderingly Beautiful, Poetic. But Loneliness Also Fosters That Which Is Perverse, Incongruous, Absurd, Forbidden.

I Tell Them That If They Will Occupy Themselves With The Study Of Mathematics They Will Find In It The Best Remedy Against The Lusts Of The Flesh.