In My Old Age There Is A

I'm Not In The World To Guard My Own Life, But To Guard Souls

Success Is A Very Hideous Thing. Its False Resemblance To Merit Deceives Men.

The Malicious Have A Dark Happiness.

Algebra Applies To The Clouds.

If It Were (is It Not) Outrageous That Society Should Treat With Such Rigid Precision Those Of Its Members Who Were Most Poorly Endowed In The Distribution Or Wealth That Chance Had Made, And Who Were, Therefore, Most Worthy Of Indulgence.