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It Is The Tragedy Of The World That No One Knows What He Doesn't Know - And The Less A Man Knows, The More Sure He Is That He Knows Everything.

Old Men When They Begin To Hear The Last Trumpet, On The Morning Breeze, Often Have A Kind Of Absent-minded Smile; Like People Listening. And Their Smiles Are Just Politeness.

What Is It In The Actor, The Stage, That Casts So Powerful A Spell On The Young Imagination?

The Concept, The Label, Is Perpetually Hiding From Us All The Nature Of The Real.

No Doubt Any Connoisseur, Any Collector, Some Bored Old Millionaire When He Shows Off His Treasures, Is Seeking In Your Praise The Resurrection And The Life.