University of Arizona - Desert Yearbook (Tucson, AZ)

Page 435 text:

5.14.67 dear all — we ' re pausing, in that continuous line ... our part is complete ... after today we ' ll each follow our separate lines .. . but now a few expressions of thanks to you who worked together for something we felt worthwhile ... as a staff — you were probably one of the best — and you ' re at the proof. Each section used its own individuality and tied together the book ... campus life was truly a pictorial of the living campus ... a hectic line, wasn ' t it ... activities — suab presented problems, didn ' t they ... a small trial for a final tribulation ... sports — forty-eight pages in eight days. that ' s better than last year ... what can i say — you deserve more than i can give you with words ... administration — to make a casual administration without posing anyone was truly an obstacle to overcome — how you ever managed i ' ll never, never know ... research — without copy — they said it couldn ' t be done — so we compromised — minimal — who knows what the judges will say this year ... seniors — to wade through the entire, well almost the entire class, and still come out on the right side was surely exhausting ... greeks — you took on an immense job — how did you ever manage to make heads or tails of them ... living units — exasperating wasn ' t it — boys will be boys, won ' t they — and the line continues ... organizations - now you can set up ' risers ' and take down names -- you ' ll never know how i appreciate it all ... index — frustrating, wasn ' t it . . . but so necessary, so vital for any good book ... that ' s the book no, not quite — dave, so we ' re sophisticated — cool, isn ' t it ... raf — an extra pair of hands is always welcomed — you were that and so much more ... phil — more than thanks ... Mr. Hulderman, stanfabe, Henk, Bob, Mary, Ted, Stan, Jeannette, Bumps — what would i have ever done without you ... and the line continues ... forever . . . to an end... thank you — so very, very much — Molly Engle 431

Page 437 text:

Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud — and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word. But in the night of death Hope sees a star, and listening Love can hear the rustling of a wing. He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, I am better now. Let us believe, in spite of doubts and fears, that these dear words are true of all the countless dead. — Robert G. Ingersol, at his brother ' s grave, June 2, 1879. 433