Surprises, Like Misfortunes, Seldom Come Alone.

There Is Something Good In All Weathers. If It Doesn't Happen To Be Good For My Work Today, It's Good For Some Other Man's Today... And Will Come Around For Me Tomorrow.

Go Ye, Who Rest So Placidly Upon The Sacred Bard Who Had Been Young, And When He Strung His Harp Was Old, And Had Never Seen The Righteous Forsaken, Or His Seed Begging Their Bread; Go, Teachers Of Content And Honest Pride, Into The Mine, The Mill, The Forge, The Squalid Depths Of Deepest Ignorance, And Uttermost Abyss Of Man's Neglect, And Say Can Any Hopeful Plant Spring Up In Air So Foul That It Extinguishes The Soul's Bright Torch As Fast As It Is Kindled!

The Weathercocks On Spires And Housetops Were Mysterious With Hints Of Stormy Wind, And Pointed, Like So Many Ghostly Fingers, Out To Dangerous Seas, Where Fragments Of Great Wrecks Were Drifting, Perhaps, And Helpless Men Were Rocked Upon Them Into A Sleep As Deep As The Unfathomable Waters.

I Will Live In The Past, The Present, And The Future. The Spirits Of All Three Shall Strive Within Me.

"it Is A Sensation Not Experienced By Many Mortals," Said He, "to Be Looking Into A Churchyard On A Wild Windy Night, And To Feel That I No More Hold A Place Among The Living Than These Dead Do, And Even To Know That I Lie Buried Somewhere Else, As They Lie Buried Here. Nothing Uses Me To It. A Spirit That Was Once A Man Could Hardly Feel Stranger Or Lonelier, Going Unrecognized Among Mankind, Than I Feel."