We Do Not Know Whether Hitler Is

Somewhere There Was Once A Flower, A Stone, A Crystal, A Queen, A King, A Palace, A Lover And His Beloved, And This Was Long Ago, On An Island Somewhere In The Ocean 5,000 Years Ago. . . . Such Is Love, The Mystic Flower Of The Soul. This Is The Center, The Self.

Nothing Is Possible Without Love ... For Love Puts One In A Mood To Risk Everything.

A Man Likes To Believe That He Is The Master Of His Soul. But As Long As He Is Unable To Control His Moods And Emotions, Or To Be Conscious Of The Myriad Secret Ways In Which Unconscious Factors Insinuate Themselves Into His Arrangements And Decisions, He Is Certainly Not His Own Master.

Doesn't The World Bring Forth Thinking In Human Heads With The Same Necessity That It Brings Forth Blossoms On The Plant?

Children Are Educated By What The Grown-up Is And Not By His Talk.