Bright Was The Summer Of 1296. The

Self-love Leads Men Of Narrow Minds To Measure All Mankind By Their Own Capacity.

Guilt Is A Spiritual Rubicon.

However You Disguise Slavery, It Is Slavery Still. Its Chains, Though Wreathed With Roses, Not Only Fasten On The Body But Rivet On The Mind.

Any Base Heart Can Devise Means Of Vileness, And Affix The Ugly Shapings Of Its Own Fancy To The Actions Of Those Around Him; But It Requires Loftiness Of Mind, And The Heaven-born Spirit Of Virtue, To Imagine Greatness Where It Is Not, And To Deck The Sordid Objects Of Nature In The Beautiful Robes Of Loveliness And Light.

Virtue Is Despotic; Life, Reputation, Every Earthly Good, Must Be Surrendered At Her Voice. The Law May Seem Hard, But It Is The Guardian Of What It Commands; And Is The Only Sure Defence Of Happiness.