On Every Parable You Ride To Every

I Love Him Who Maketh His Virtue His Inclination And Destiny: Thus, For The Sake Of His Virtue, He Is Willing To Live On, Or Live No More.

The Universe Without Music Would Be Madness.

Has There Ever Been Anything Filthier On Earth Than The Saints In The Wilderness? Around Them Was Not Only The Devil Loose Around Them- But Also The Swine.

A Nation Usually Renews Its Youth On A Political Sick-bed, And There Finds Again The Spirit Which It Had Gradually Lost In Seeking And Maintaining Power.

I Love Him Whose Soul Is So Overfull That He Forgetteth Himself, And All Things Are In Him: Thus All Things Become His Down-going.