Habit With It's Iron Sinews, Clasps Us

Limited In His Nature, Infinite In His Desires, Man Is A Fallen God Who Remembers The Heavens.

There Is A Name Hidden In The Shadow Of My Soul, Where I Read It Night And Day And No Other Eye Sees It.

The Impartiality Of History Is Not That Of The Mirror, Which Merely Reflects Objects, But Of The Judge, Who Sees, Listens, And Decides.

Men Are Misers, And Women Prodigal, In Affection.

At Twenty Every One Is Republican.