Peace Is In The Grave.

Love's Very Pain Is Sweet

History Is A Cyclic Poem Written By Time Upon The Memories Of Man.

The More We Study The More We Discover Our Ignorance.

When Merciless Ambition, Or Mad Zeal, Has Led Two Hosts Of Dupes To Battlefield, That, Blind, They There May Dig Each Other's Graves, And Call The Sad Work Glory.

Ah, Woe Is Me! Winter Is Come And Gone. But Grief Returns With The Revolving Year.