Sing It Not In Mournful Numbers.

What Man Does Not Know, Or Has Not Thought Of, Wanders In The Night Through The Labyrinth Of The Mind.

I Believe In God And In Nature And In The Triumph Of Good Over Evil.

What A Day It Is When We Must Envy The Men In Their Graves.

What Sort Of Faults May We Retain, Nay, Even Cherish In Ourselves? Those Faults Which Are Rather Pleasant Than Offensive To Others.

Superstition Is Rooted In A Much Deeper And More Sensitive Layer Of The Psyche Than Skepticism.