Shame

But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment.

From the eternal azure serene irony Overwhelms, indolently as beautiful flowers, the poet who curses his genius powerless through a barren desert of pain. Fleeing, eyes closed, I feel it looks with the intensity of a remorse appalling, my empty soul, flee Where? And what a night haggard Jeter, shreds, throw contempt on this sad? Fog, get in! Put your ashes monotonous With long rags of mist in heaven who drown livid marsh autumns and build a large ceiling quiet! And you, get out of ponds léthéens and picks you coming in the pale mud and reeds, Dear Boredom to butcher one hand never tired bleux The large holes that do wickedly birds. Encor! that relentlessly sad chimneys Active smokers, and one of errant jail soot off the horror of his black streaks sun is dying yellowish on the horizon! -Heaven is death. -To you, I run! gives O field, Forgetting the Ideal cruel and Sin To martyr who comes to share the litter or livestock happiest man is lying, because I want to, because then my brain emptied As the pot of rouge lying at the foot of the wall, No longer the art of attifer the idea sobbing, yawning dismally to an obscure death. . . In vain! the triumph Azur, and I hear singing in the bells. My soul, there is more voice to scare us with his victory mean, metal and living out in blue angelus! He rolls the mist, through old and Ta notive agony and a sword on, or flee in revolt inutle and perverse? I'm haunted. The Azur! the Riviera! the Riviera! the Riviera.

But he who dies in despair has lived his whole life in vain.

It may, after all, be the bad habit of creative talents to invest themselves in pathological extremes that yield remarkable insights but no durable way of life for those who cannot translate their psychic wounds into significant art or thought.

Finally, it would be a master stroke if those great powers honestly bent on peace would form a League of Peace, not only to keep the peace among themselves, but to prevent, by force if necessary, its being broken by others. The supreme difficulty in connection with developing the peace work of The Hague arises from the lack of any executive power, of any police power to enforce the decrees of the court. In any community of any size the authority of the courts rests upon actual or potential force: on the existence of a police, or on the knowledge that the able-bodied men of the country are both ready and willing to see that the decrees of judicial and legislative bodies are put into effect.

There is not in all America a more dangerous trait than the deification of mere smartness unaccompanied by any sense of moral responsibility.

We keep countless men from being good citizens by the conditions of life by which we surround them. We need comprehensive workman’s compensation acts, both State and national laws to regulate child labor and work for women, and, especially, we need in our common schools not merely education in book-learning, but also practical training for daily life and work. We need to enforce better sanitary conditions for our workers and to extend the use of safety appliances for workers in industry and commerce, both within and between the States. Also, friends, in the interest of the working man himself, we need to set our faces like flint against mob-violence just as against corporate greed; against violence and injustice and lawlessness by wage-workers just as much as against lawless cunning and greed and selfish arrogance of employers.

Shamelessness may be defined as neglect of reputation for the sake of base gain.

The way to be humble is to look upwards to God. If we think greatly of his majesty, purity, and infinity of all excellence, it will give us such a striking view of our vileness and absolute unworthiness, that we shall think it hardly possible for any to be lower than ourselves.

A stoic of the woods,--a man without a tear.

In the Word is involved the unity of humanity, the wholeness of the human problem, which permits nobody to separate the intellectual and artistic from the political and social, and to isolate himself within the ivory tower of the cultural proper.

It was, however, striking—in the best sense of the word—that precisely those rules that corresponded exactly to their overseers’ economic interests enjoyed unconditional veneration, whereas rules for which said correspondence was less applicable were more likely to be winked at.

The observations and encounters of a devotee of solitude and silence are at once less distinct and more penetrating than those of the sociable man; his thoughts are weightier, stranger, and never without a tinge of sadness. Images and perceptions which might otherwise be easily dispelled by a glance, a laugh, an exchange of comments, concern him unduly, they sink into mute depths, take on significance, become experiences, adventures, emotions.

Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.

Truly, my Satan, thou art but a dunce,
And dost not know the garment from the man;
Every harlot was a virgin once,
Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan.

Tho’ thou art worship’d by the names divine
Of Jesus and Jehovah, thou art still
The Son of Morn in weary Night’s decline,
The lost traveller’s dream under the hill.

The biological clock is responsive to light at certain times... Bright light in the morning will tend to advance the clock. In other words, alertness will occur earlier and sleep will occur earlier.

Prayer is not a way of making use of God; prayer is a way of offering ourselves to God in order that He should be able to make use of us. It may be that one of our great faults in prayer is that we talk too much and listen too little. When prayer is at its highest we wait in silence for God's voice to us; we linger in His presence for His peace and His power to flow over us and around us; we lean back in His everlasting arms and feel the serenity of perfect security in Him.

But war's a game, which, were their subjects wise, kings would not play at.

'Twere better to be born a stone of ruder shape, and feeling none, than with a tenderness like mine and sensibilities so fine! Ah, hapless wretch! Condemn'd to dwell forever in my native shell, ordained to move when others please, not for my own content or ease; but toss'd and buffeted about, now in the water and now out.

Did you read how many thousands (not hundreds) but thousands of students just graduated all over the country in law? Going to take an awful lot of crime to support that bunch.