Against Stupidity, God Himself Fights In Vain.

Where There Is Much Freedom There Is Much Error.

A Healthy Nature Needs No God Or Immortality

Yet Have I Ever Heard It Said That Spies And Tale-bearers Have Done More Mischief In This World Than Poisoned Bowl Or The Assassin's Dagger.

Man Ever Talks, And Man Ever Dreams Of Better Days That Are Yet To Be, After Glittering Goal, That Distant Gleams, Running And Racing Untiringly. The Worldly May Grow Old And Young As It Will, But The Hope Of Man Is Improvement Still. Hope Bears Him Into Life In Her Arms, She Flutters Around The Boy's Young Bloom, The Soul Of Youth With Her Magic Warms, Nor Rests With Age In The Silent Tomb; For Ends Man His Weary Course At The Grave, There Plants He Hope O'er His Ashes To Wave.

Time Consecrates; And What Is Gray With Age Becomes Religion.