“Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence.”
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Great men, unknown to their generation, have their fame among the great who have preceded them, and all true worldly fame subsides from their high estimate beyond the stars.
Shall I not have intelligence with the earth? Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mould myself.
The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.
If it is surely the means to the highest end we know, can any work be humble or disgusting? Will it not rather be elevating as a ladder, the means by which we are translated?
