Enthusiasm Begets Enthusiasm.

Some Must Follow And Some Command, Through All Are Made Oclay.

Not In The Clamor Of The Crowded Street, Not In The Shouts And Plaudits Of The Throng, But In Ourselves, Are Triumph And Defeat.

Races, Better Than We, Have Leaned On Her Wavering Promise, Having Naught Else But Hope.

Art Is The Child Of Nature; Yes, Her Darling Child, In Whom We Trace The Features Of The Mother's Face, Her Aspect And Her Attitude, All Her Majestic Loveliness Chastened And Softened And Subdued Into A More Attractive Grace, And With A Human Sense Imbued. He Is The Greatest Artist, Then, Whether Of Pencil Or Of Pen, Who Follows Nature.

People Demand Freedom Only When They Have No Power.