The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized.
The twilight that surrounds the border-land of old romance.
If we could read the secret history of our enemies.
Thought takes man out of servitude, into freedom.
'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.