Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range. Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

Mated with a squalid savage - what to me were sun or clime? I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time -

Thro' the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger day: Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.

There the passions cramp'd no longer shall have scope and breathing-space; I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.

Think of it as evolution in action.

Progress everywhere today does seem to come so very heavily disguised as chaos.

I began to realize that life is a growth stage I'm going through.