Wise Criticism Always Begins With Self-criticism.

Faith Is Not The Clinging To A Shrine But An Endless Pilgrimage Of The Heart.

Solitude Is A Necessary Protest To The Incursions And The False Alarms Of Society's Hysteria, A Period Of Cure And Recovery.

The Riches Of The Soul Are Stored Up In Its Memory. This Is The Test Of Character, Not Whether A Man Follows The Daily Fashion, But Whether The Past Is Alive In His Present.

Awe Enables Us To See In The World Intimations Of The Divine, To Sense In Small Things The Beginning Of Infinite Significance, To Sense The Ultimate In The Common And The Simple, To Feel In The Rush Of The Passing The Stillness Of The Eternal.

Sometimes We Wish The World Could Cry And Tell Us About That Which Made It Pregnant With Fear-filling Grandeur. Sometimes We Wish Our Own Heart Would Speak Of That Which Made It Heavy With Wonder.