Genuine Religion Is Not So Much A

And Little Eagles Wave Their Wings In Gold.

Remembrance And Reflection How Allied. What Thin Partitions Divides Sense From Thought.

When I Die, I Should Be Ashamed To Leave Enough To Build Me A Monument If There Were A Wanting Friend Above Ground. I Would Enjoy The Pleasure Of What I Give By Giving It Alive And Seeing Another Enjoy It.

Sleep And Death, Two Twins Of Winged Race, Of Matchless Swiftness, But Of Silent Pace.

Old Politicians Chew On Wisdom Past, And Totter On In Business To The Last.