If There Was Ever A Just War

But Though Every Created Thing Is, In This Sense, A Mystery, The Word Mystery Cannot Be Applied To Moral Truth, Any More Than Obscurity Can Be Applied To Light. ... Mystery Is The Antagonist Of Truth. It Is A Fog Of Human Invention, That Obscures Truth, And Represents It In Distortion. Truth Never Envelops Itself In Mystery, And The Mystery In Which It Is At Any Time Enveloped Is The Work Of Its Antagonist, And Never Of Itself.

The Abilities Of Man Must Fall Short On One Side Or The Other, Like Too Scanty A Blanket When You Are Abed. If You Pull It Upon Your Shoulders, Your Feet Are Left Bare; If You Thrust It Down To Your Feet, Your Shoulders Are Uncovered.

When A Man Has So Far Corrupted And Prostituted The Chastity Of His Mind, As To [profess] Things He Does Not Believe, He Has Prepared Himself For The Commission Of Every Other Crime.

The Intimacy Which Is Contracted In Infancy, And Friendship Which Is Formed In Misfortune, Are, Of All Others, The Most Lasting And Unalterable.

Tears May Soothe The Wounds They Cannot Heal.