Human Madness Is Oftentimes A Cunning And

It Is Hard To Be Finite Upon An Infinite Subject, And All Subjects Are Infinite.

Surely A Gentle Sister Is The Second Best Gift To A Man; And It Is First In Point Of Occurrence; For The Wife Comes After.

Where Lies The Final Harbor, Whence We Unmoor No More? In What Rapt Ether Sails The World, Of Which The Weariest Will Never Weary? Where Is The Foundling’s Father Hidden? Our Souls Are Like Those Orphans Whose Unwedded Mothers Die In Bearing Them: The Secret Of Our Paternity Lies In Their Grave, And We Must There To Learn It.

Nothing Can Lift The Heart Of Man Like Manhood In A Fellow Man.

Wag The World How It Will, Leaves Must Be Green In Spring.