The Intensest Form Of Hatred Is That

In So Complex A Thing As Human Nature, We Must Consider It Is Hard To Find Rules Without Exception.

The Men Are Mostly So Slow, Their Thoughts Overrun 'em, An' They Can Only Catch 'em By The Tail. I Can Count A Stocking-top While A Man's Getting's Tongue Ready; An' When He Outs Wi' His Speech At Last, There's Little Broth To Be Made On't. It's Your Dead Chicks Take The Longest Hatchin'.

Our Words Have Wings, But Fly Not Where We Would.

Better A False Belief Than No Belief At All.

I Shall Do Everything It Becomes Me To Do.