When A Happy Person Comes

Trust Your Instinct To The End, Though You Can Render No Reason.

The Only Joy In His Being Mine, Is That The Not Mine Is Mine.

The Element Running Through Entire Nature, Which We Popularly Call Fate, Is Known To Us As Limitation. Whatever Limits Us, We Callfate.

People Are Timid And Apologetic; They Are No Longer Upright; They Dare Not Say "i Think," "i Am," But Quote Some Saint Or Sage. They Are Ashamed Before The Blade Of Grass Or The Blowing Rose. These Roses Under My Window Make No Reference To Former Roses Or To Better Ones; They Are For What They Are; They Exist With God To-day.

One Of The Illusions Of Life Is That The Present Hour Is Not The Critical, Decisive One.