It Is The Nature Of Grace Always

To Venture An Opinion Is Like Moving A Piece At Chess: It May Be Taken, But It Forms The Beginning Of A Game That Is Won.

Let's Plunge Ourselves Into The Roar Of Time, The Whirl Of Accident; May Pain And Pleasure, Success And Failure, Shift As They Will -- It's Only Action That Can Make A Man.

I Am A Part Of The Part That At First Was All, Part Of The Darkness That Gave Birth To The Light, That Supercilious Light Which Now Disputes With Mother Night Her Ancient Rank And Space, And Yet Cannot Succeed; No Matter How It Struggles, It Sticks To Matter And Can't Get Free. Light Flows From Substance, Makes It Beautiful.

The Most Fortunate Of Men, Be He A King Or Commoner, Is He Whose Welfare Is Assured In His Own Home.

Is It Not Enough That We Cannot Make One Another Happy, Must We Also Rob One Another Of The Pleasures That Any Heart May Permit Itself Now And Then? And Name Me A Person Who In A Bad Mood Will Be Decent Enough To Hide It, To Bear It Alone, Without Destroying The Joy Around Him. Is It Not Rather An Inner Dissatisfaction With Our Own Unworthiness, A Dislike Of Ourselves That Is Always Associated With Envy Aggravated By Foolish Conceit? We See People Happy And Not Made Happy By Us, And That Is Unbearable.