While Art May Instruct As

I Am Seventy Years Old, A Gray Age Weighted With Uncompromising Biblical Allusions. It Ought To Have A Gray Outlook, But It Hasn't, Because A Glint Of Dazzling Sunshine Is Dancing Merrily Ahead Of Me.

There Are Few Nudities So Objectionable As The Naked Truth.

The Pleasure Of Possession, Whether We Possess Trinkets, Or Offspring - Or Possibly Books, Or Prints, Or Chessmen, Or Postage Stamps - Lies In Showing These Things To Friends Who Are Experiencing No Immediate Urge To Look At Them.

There Is An Optimism Which Nobly Anticipates The Eventual Triumph Of Great Moral Laws, And There Is An Optimism Which Cheerfully Tolerates Unworthiness.

Diaries Tell Their Little Tales With A Directness, A Candor, Conscious Or Unconscious, A Closeness Of Outlook, Which Gratifies Our Sense Of Security. Reading Them Is Like Gazing Through A Small Clear Pane Of Glass. We May Not See Far And Wide, But We See Very Distinctly That Which Comes Within Our Field Of Vision.