But As To The Affection Which Anyone

For Hardly Any Man Dances When Sober, Unless He Is Insane. Nor Does He Dance While Alone, Nor At A Respectable And Moderate Party. Dancing Is The Final Phase Of A Wild Party With Fancy Decorations And A Multitude Of Delights.

A Nation Can Survive Its Fools, And Even The Ambitious. But It Cannot Survive Treason From Within. An Enemy At The Gates Is Less Formidable, For He Is Known And Carries His Banner Openly. But The Traitor Moves Amongst Those Within The Gate Freely, His Sly Whispers Rustling Through All The Alleys, Heard In The Very Halls Of Government Itself.

He Is Sometimes Slave Who Should Be Master; And Sometimes Master Who Should Be Slave.

All Soils Are Not Fertile.

There Is Pleasure In Calm Remembrance Of A Past Sorrow.