And Silence, Like A Poultice, Comes To

The Mark Of A Civilized Man Is His Willingness To Re-examine His Most Cherished Beliefs.

The Preacher's Garment Is Cut According To The Pattern Of That Of The Hearers, For The Most Part.

My Right To Swing My Fist Ends Where Your Nose Begins.

The Axis Of The Earth Sticks Out Visibly Through The Center Of Each And Every Town Or City.

We Are All Tattooed In Our Cradles With The Beliefs Of Our Tribe; The Record May Seem Superficial, But It Is Indelible.