Chaos Breeds Life; Order Creates Habit.

History Is A Tangled Skein That One May Take Up At Any Point, And Break When One Has Unravelled Enough.

Charles Sumner's Mind Had Reached The Calm Of Water Which Receives And Reflects Images Without Absorbing Them; It Contains Nothing But Itself.

Friends Are Born, Not Made.

Only On The Edge Of The Grave Can Man Conclude Anything.

Nothing Is More Tiresome Than A Superannuated Pedagogue.