Give Me Truths For I Am Weary

The Have A Good Friend Is One Of The Greatest Delights Of Life.

The Poorest Experience Is Rich Enough For All The Purposes Of Expressing Thought

The Soul Comes From Without Into The Human Body, As Into A Temporary Abode, And It Goes Out Of It Anew… It Passes Into Other Habitations, For The Soul Is Immortal.

Democracy Is Morose, And Runs To Anarchy.

Life Is Comic Or Pitiful As Soon As The High Ends Of Being Fade Out Of Sight, And Man Becomes Near-sighted, And Can Only Attend Towhat Addresses The Senses.