The Moral Of Human Life Is Never

The Essence Of True Nobility Is Neglect Of Self. Let The Thought Of Self Pass In, And The Beauty Of A Great Action Is Gone, Like The Bloom From A Soiled Flower.

I Cannot Think The Disputes And Jealousies Of Heaven Are Tried And Settled By The Swords Of Earth.

Who Shall Say That Those Poor Peasants Were Not Acting In The Spirit We Most Venerate, Most Adore; That Theirs Was Not The True Heart Language Which We Cannot Choose But Love? And What Has Been Their Reward? They Have Sent Down Their Name To Be The By-word Of All After Ages; The Worst Reproach Of The Worst Men A Name Convertible With Atheism And Devil-worship.

Experience Teaches Slowly, And At The Cost Of Mistakes.

We Enter The World Alone, We Leave It Alone.