Have upon your study table, always accessible, a good-sized substantially bound blank book. Whenever a germinant thought comes seize your pen and write it down. Such thoughts will come out of your special course of literary reading, out of your cursory scanning of current fiction, even out of the five-minute glance given to the morning paper, out of nowhere and from anywhere. Thought-compelling suggestions entirely foreign to the sermon on which you are just now engaged will frequently send you to your treasure book, and without any damage to present preparation you will scribble down a page of matter that will set you on fire at some future day just when you are in need of inspiration and help. Have also a special vest-pocket notebook and let nothing escape you.
- The Methodist Review, 1907.

If you have a car, a job, a house, a family, love or some combination of the above, your life is a dream made of spun sugar and unicorn farts and you have no right to ever be sad.

How do you know my dimwitted inexperience isn’t really a subtle form of manipulation used to lower expectations, thereby enhancing my ability to maneuver myself within any given situation?