Even Of Death Christianity Has Made A

Music Is Not A Science Any More Than Poetry Is. It Is A Sublime Instinct, Like Genius Of All Kinds.

If All Feeling For Grace And Beauty Were Not Extinguished In The Mass Of Mankind At The Actual Moment, Such A Method Of Locomotion As Cycling Could Never Have Found Acceptance; No Man Or Woman With The Slightest Aesthetic Sense Could Assume The Ludicrous Position Necessary For It.

Talent Wears Well, Genius Wears Itself Out; Talent Drives A Snug Brougham In Fact; Genius, A Sun-chariot In Fancy.

Take Hope From The Heart Of Man, And You Make Him A Beast Of Prey.

It Is Hard Work To Be Good When You Are Very Little And Very Hungry, And Have Many Sticks To Beat You, And No Mother's Lips To Kiss You.