You do not seem to realize that beauty is a liability rather<br />than<br />an asset - that in view of the fact that spirit creates form<br />we are justified in supposing<br />that you must have brains. For you, a symbol of the<br />unit, stiff and sharp,<br />conscious of surpassing by dint of native superiority and<br />liking for everything<br />self-dependent, anything an<br /><br />ambitious civilization might produce: for you, unaided, to<br />attempt through sheer<br />reserve, to confuse presumptions resulting from<br />observation, is idle. You cannot make us<br />think you a delightful happen-so. But rose, if you are<br />brilliant, it<br />is not because your petals are the without-which-nothing<br />of pre-eminence. Would you not, minus<br />thorns, be a what-is-this, a mere<br />perculiarity? They are not proof against a worm, the<br />elements, or mildew;<br />but what about the predatory hand? What is brilliance<br />without co-ordination? Guarding the<br />infinitesimal pieces of your mind, compelling audience to<br />the remark that it is better to be forgotten than to be re-<br />membered too violently,<br />your thorns are the best part of you.