Love Is More Just Than Justice.

Christianity Is Simply The Ideal Form Of Manhood Represented To Us By Jesus Christ.

The Pie Should Be Eaten "while It Is Yet Florescent, White Or Creamy Yellow, With The Merest Drip Of Candied Juice Along The Edges, (as If The Flavor Were So Good To Itself That Its Own Lips Watered!) Of A Mild And Modest Warmth, The Sugar Suggesting Jelly, Yet Not Jellied, The Morsels Of Apple Neither Dissolved Nor Yet In Original Substance, But Hanging As It Were In A Trance Between The Spirit And The Flesh Of Applehood...then, O Blessed Man, Favored By All The Divinities! Eat, Give Thanks, And Go Forth, 'in Apple-pie Order!'"

The Worst Prison Is Not Of Stone. It Is Of A Throbbing Heart, Outraged By An Infamous Life.

Words Are But The Bannerets Of A Great Army, A Few Bits Of Waving Color Here And There; Thoughts Are The Main Body Of The Footman That March Unseen Below.

The Natural Term Of An Apple-pie Is But Twelve Hours. It Reaches Its Highest State About One Hour After It Comes From The Oven, And Just Before Its Natural Heat Has Quite Departed. But Every Hour Afterward Is A Declension. And After It Is One Day Old, It Is Thence-forward But The Ghastly Corpse Of Apple-pie.