Be Like The Rocky Headland On Which

Each Day Provides Its Own Gifts.

Death Is A Release From The Impressions Of The Senses, And From Desires That Make Us Their Puppets, And From The Vagaries Of The Mind, And From The Hard Service Of The Flesh.

Thou Seest How Few Be The Things, The Which If A Man Has At His Command His Life Flows Gently On And Is Divine.

The Impediment To Action Advances Action. What Stands In The Way Becomes The Way.

Nothing Happens To Any Man That He Is Not Formed By Nature To Bear.