Every Library Is An Arsenal.

Every Man Is Dishonest Who Lives Upon The Labor Of Others, No Matter If He Occupies A Throne.

The Way To Be Happy Is To Make Others So.

Certainly The Old Testament Does Not Teach Us That There Is Another Life, And Upon That Question Even The New Is Obscure And Vague. The Hunger Of The Heart Finds Only A Few Small And Scattered Crumbs. There Is Nothing Definite, Solid, And Satisfying. United With The Idea Of Immortality We Find The Absurdity Of The Resurrection. A Prophecy That Depends For Its Fulfillment Upon An Impossibility, Cannot Satisfy The Brain Or Heart.

Liberty Is The Condition Of Progress. Without Liberty, There Remains Only Barbarism. Without Liberty, There Can Be No Civilization.

The Idea Of Immortality, That Like A Sea Has Ebbed And Flowed In The Human Heart, With Its Countless Waves Of Hope And Fear, Beating Against The Shores And Rocks Of Time And Fate, Was Not Born Of Any Book, Nor Of Any Creed, Nor Of Any Religion. It Was Born Of Human Affection, And It Will Continue To Ebb And Flow Beneath The Mists And Clouds Of Doubt And Darkness As Long As Love Kisses The Lips Of Death. It Is The Rainbow -- Hope Shining Upon The Tears Of Grief.