The Concessions Of The Weak Are The

Religion Is Essentially The Art And The Theory Of The Remaking Of Man. Man Is Not A Finished Creation.

The Essence Of Tyranny Is The Enforcement Of Stupid Laws.

Men Have No Right To Put The Well-being Of The Present Generation Wholly Out Of The Question. Perhaps The Only Moral Trust With Any Certainty In Our Hands Is The Care Of Our Own Time.

Because Half A Dozen Grasshoppers Under A Fern Make The Field Ring With Their Importunate Chink, Whilst Thousands Of Great Cattle, Reposed Beneath The Shadow Of The British Oak, Chew The Cud And Are Silent, Pray, To Not Imagine That Those Who Make The Noise Are The Only Inhabitants Of The Field; That, Of Course, They Are Many In Number; Or That, After All, They Are Other Than The Little, Shriveled, Meagre, Hopping, Though Loud And Troublesome Insects Of The Hour.

Applaud Us When We Run, Console Us When We Fall, Cheer Us When We Recover.