It Is Always By Way Of Pain

Cruelty, Very Far From Being A Vice, Is The First Sentiment Nature Injects In Us All.

God Strung Up His Own Son Like A Side Of Veal. I Shudder To Think What He Would Do To Me.

We Are No Guiltier In Following The Primative Impulses That Govern Us Than Is The Nile For Her Floods Or The Sea For Her Waves.

Prejudice Is The Sole Author Of Infamies: How Many Acts Are So Qualified By An Opinion Forged Out Of Naught But Prejudice!

There Is No God, Nature Sufficeth Unto Herself; In No Wise Hath She Need Of An Author.