Charity Begins At Home, Is The Voice

I Have Loved My Friends As I Do Virtue, My Soul, My God.

Not To Be Content With Life Is The Unsatisfactory State Of Those Which Destroy Themselves; Who Being Afraid To Live, Run Blindly Upon Their Own Death, Which No Man Fears By Experience.

A Diamond, Which Is The Hardest Of Stones, Not Yielding Unto Steel, Emery Or Any Other Thing, Is Yet Made Soft By The Blood Of A Goat.

To Be Nameless In Worthy Deeds Exceeds An Infamous History.

Praise Is A Debt We Owe Unto The Virtue Of Others, And Due Unto Our Own From All Whom Malice Hath Not Made Mutes, Or Envy Struck Dumb.