A Wrongdoer Is Often A Man Who

Either All Things Proceed From One Intelligent Source And Come Together As In One Body, And The Part Ought Not To Find Fault With What Is Done For The Benefit Of The Whole; Or There Are Only Atoms, And Nothing Else Than A Mixture And Dispersion. Why, Then, Art Thou Disturbed? Say To This Ruling Faculty, Art Thou Dead, Art Thou Corrupted, Art Thou Playing The Hypocrite, Art Thou Become A Beast, Dost Thou Herd And Feed With The Rest?

A Man's True Greatness Lies In The Consciousness Of An Honest Purpose In Life, Founded On A Just Estimate Of Himself And Everything Else, On Frequent Self-examinations, And A Steady Obedience To The Rule Which He Knows To Be Right, Without Troubling Himself About What Others May Think Or Say, Or Whether They Do Or Do Not That Which He Thinks And Says And Does.

It Is Not Right To Vex Ourselves At Things, For They Care Not About It.

If Any Man Despises Me, That Is His Problem. My Only Concern Is Not Doing Or Saying Anything Deserving Of Contempt.

If Souls Survive Death For All Eternity, How Can The Heavens Hold Them All? Or For That Matter, How Can The Earth Hold All The Bodies That Have Been Buried In It? The Answers Are The Same. Just As On Earth, With The Passage Of Time, Decaying And Transmogrified Corpses Make Way For The Newly Dead, So Souls Released Into The Heavens, After A Season Of Flight, Begin To Break Up, Burn, And Be Absorbed Back Into The Womb Of Reason, Leaving Room For Souls Just Beginning To Fly. This Is The Answer For Those Who Believe That Souls Survive Death.