Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

He Who Makes His Law A Curse, By His Own Law Shall Surely Die.

Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

Bring Me An Axe And Spade, Bring Me A Winding-sheet; When I My Grave Have Made Let Winds And Tempests Beat: Then Down I'll Lie As Cold As Clay. True Love Doth Pass Away!

Although Wine When It Is Read Somewhat Lacks The Savour Of Wine When It Is Drunk, Wine Remains A Very Pleasant Thing Both To Read About And To Chat About.

Degrade First The Arts If You'd Mankind Degrade. Hire Idiots To Paint With Cold Light & Hot Shade: Give High Price For The Worst, Leave The Best In Disgrace, And With Labours Of Ignorance Fill Every Place.