"'I think I am sorry because of your lost light; because the brave, brutal child in you is dead--the boastful child who mocked and thought his mockery shook the throne of God; the confident child who graciously permitted the world to accompany him through space. The child is dead, and I am sorry. I would go with you, now, if I thought it possible to warm the child to life again.'"

"'He has come to be the great man he thought he wanted to be. If this is true, then he is not a man. He is still al little boy and wants the moon. I supposed he is rather unhappy about it. Those who say children are happy, forget their childhood. I wonder how long he can stave off manhood.'"

"'Judgement of insanity is truly the hanging of a man's mind. If it be whispered of him that his brain wanders, then nothing he can say will matter to any one ever again, except as a thing to laugh at.'"

"'Oh, Robert! Robert! why must you blame the world when it protects itself against you? I think God and the world are one to you. If there were ten people in the valley below who liked the look of rose leaves on the ground, you would only be a very queer person, interesting and something of a curiosity. They would bring strangers to your house on Sunday afternoons and exhibit you. But since there are none, of course you are a radical who must be locked up or hanged. Judgement of insanity is truly the hanging of a man's mind. If it be whispered of him that his brain wanders, than nothing he can say will matter to any one ever again, except as a thing to laugh at.'"

"'For up here, Robert, that furtive hope the valley men call faith becomes a questionable thing. Oh, without doubt, if there were a great many about me, and they all intoning endlessly the chant, "there is a wise, kind God; surely we shall go on living after death,' then I might be preparing for the coming life. But here, alone, halfway up the sky, I am afraid that death would interrupt my musing. The mountainside a kind of poultice for a man's abstract pain. Among them he laughs--oh, far more often than he cries.'"