Many-have Too Rashly Charged The Troops Of

Praise Is A Debt We Owe Unto The Virtue Of Others, And Due Unto Our Own From All Whom Malice Hath Not Made Mutes, Or Envy Struck Dumb.

The World, Which Took Six Days To Make, Is Likely To Take Us Six Thousand Years To Make Out.

Charity But How Shall We Expect Charity Towards Others, When We Are Uncharitable To Ourselves? Charity Begins At Home, Is The Voice Of The World; Yet Is Every Man His Greatest Enemy, And, As It Were, His Own Executioner.

There Is Another Man Within Me That's Angry With Me.

I Have Loved My Friends As I Do Virtue, My Soul, My God.