It Is A Vain Hope To Make

All Reform Except A Moral One Will Prove Unavailing.

Why Did Not Somebody Teach Me The Constellations, And Make Me At Home In The Starry Heavens, Which Are Always Overhead, And Which I Don't Half Know To This Day?

What I Loved In The Man Was His Health, His Unity With Himself; All People And All Things Seemed To Find Their Quite Peaceable Adjustment With Him, Not A Proud Domineering One, As After Doubtful Contest, But A Spontaneous-looking Peaceable, Even Humble One.

Sarcasm I Now See To Be, In General, The Language Of The Devil; For Which Reason I Have Long Since As Good As Renounced It.

It Is A Vain Hope To Make People Happy By Politics.