Thank God When He Oppresses You, And

I Wish The Crowd To Feel Itself Well Treated, Especially Since It Lives And Lets Me Live.

Sweet Moonlight, Shining Full And Clear, Why Do You Light My Torture Here? How Often Have You Seen Me Toil, Burning Last Drops Of Midnight Oil. On Books And Papers As I Read, My Friend, Your Mournful Light You Shed. If Only I Could Flee This Den And Walk The Mountain-tops Again, Through Moonlit Meadows Make My Way, In Mountain Caves With Spirits Play - Released From Learning's Musty Cell, Your Healing Dew Would Make Me Well!

He Who Is Plenteously Provided For From Within Needs But Little From Without.

Then To The Depths! - I Could As Well Say Height: It's All The Same.

Beware Of A Man Of One Book.