Words are mere sound and smoke, dimming the heavenly light.

Hell begins the day that God grants you the vision to see all that you could have done, should have done, and would have done, but did not do.

Few men have imagination enough for reality.

All professional men are handicapped by not being allowed to ignore things which are useless.

Colors are light's suffering and joy

Sweet moonlight, shining full and clear, Why do you light my torture here? How often have you seen me toil, Burning last drops of midnight oil. On books and papers as I read, My friend, your mournful light you shed. If only I could flee this den And walk the mountain-tops again, Through moonlit meadows make my way, In mountain caves with spirits play - Released from learning's musty cell, Your healing dew would make me well!

He who does not stretch himself according to the coverlet finds his feet uncovered.