I Have No Respect For The Passion

The Common Law Is Not A Brooding Omnipresence In The Sky, But The Articulate Voice Of Some Sovereign Or Quasi Sovereign That Can Be Identified; Although Some Decisions With Which I Have Disagreed Seem To Me To Have Forgotten The Fact.

Every Real Thought On Every Real Subject Knocks The Wind Out Of Somebody Or Other.

There Is No Friend Like The Old Friend, Who Has Shared Our Morning Days, No Greeting Like His Welcome, No Homage Like His Praise: Fame Is The Scentless Sunflower, With Gaudy Crown Of Gold; But Friendship Is The Breathing Rose, With Sweets In Every Fold.

The Foliage Has Been Losing Its Freshness Through The Month Of August, And Here And There A Yellow Leaf Shows Itself Like The First Gray Hair Amidst The Locks Of A Beauty Who Has Seen One Season Too Many.

Where We Stand Is Not As Important As The Direction In Which We Are Moving.