It Is Passion That Makes Man Live;

Life Is A Malady In Which Sleep Soothes Us Every Sixteen Hours; It Is A Palliation; Death Is The Remedy.

Knowledge Is Boundless,--human Capacity, Limited.

Most Books Today Seemed To Have Been Written Overnight From Books Read The Day Before.

Though We Best Know And Cannot Deny Our Imperfections, It Is Not For Us To Lose Our Self-reliance And True Manhood.

We Gild Our Medicines With Sweets; Why Not Clothe Truth And Morals In Peasant Garments As Well?