Morality Is The Object Of Government.

Alas For America As I Must So Often Say, The Ungirt, The Diffuse, The Profuse, Procumbent, One Wide Ground Juniper, Out Of Which No Cedar, No Oak Will Rear Up A Mast To The Clouds! It All Runs To Leaves, To Suckers, To Tendrils, To Miscellany. The Air Is Loaded With Poppy, With Imbecility, With Dispersion, & Sloth.

There Is No Great And No Small To The Soul That Maketh All.

Harmony Of Aim, Not Identity Of Conclusion, Is The Secret Of Sympathetic Life.

Let A Man Behave In His Own House As A Guest.

It Is The Secret Of The World That All Things Subsist And Do Not Die, But Only Retire A Little From Sight And Afterward Return Again.