It Is Not Great, But Little Good-haps

Despair Is The Only Genuine Atheism.

The Romance Of Life Begins And Ends With Two Blank Pages. Age And Extreme Old Age.

I Would Rather Dwell In The Dim Fog Of Superstition Than In Air Rarefied To Nothing By The Air-pump Of Unbelief-in Which The Panting Breast Expires, Vainly And Convulsively Gasping For Breath.

Age Doesn't Matter, Unless Your Cheese.

Nations And Men Are Only The Best When They Are The Gladdest, And Deserve Heaven When They Enjoy It.