For Him Who Fain Would Teach The

As The Skull Of The Man Grows Broader, So Do His Creeds. And His Gods They Are Shaped In His Image And Mirror His Needs. And He Clothes Them With Thunders And Beauty, He Clothes Them With Music And Fire, Seeing Not, As He Bows By Their Altars, That He Worships His Own Desire.

Every Cloud Has Its Silver Lining But It Is Sometimes A Little Difficult To Get It To The Mint.

I Once Heard The Survivors Of A Colony Of Ants That Had Been Partially Obliterated By A Cow's Foot Seriously Debating The Intention Of The Gods Towards Their Civilization.

If The World Were Not So Full Of People, And Most Of Them Did Not Have To Work So Hard, There Would Be More Time For Them To Get Out And Lie On The Grass, And There Would Be More Grass For Them To Lie On.

Not Every Woman In Old Slippers Can Manage To Look Like Cinderella