The More Accurately We Search Into The

Teach Me, O Lark! With Thee To Greatly Rise, To Exalt My Soul And Lift It To The Skies.

The Concessions Of The Weak Are The Concessions Of Fear.

All Human Laws Are, Properly Speaking, Only Declaratory; They May Alter The Mode And Application, But Have No Power Over The Substance Of Original Justice.

Fiction Lags After Truth, Invention Is Unfruitful, And Imagination Cold And Barren.

Some Decent Regulated Pre-eminence, Some Preference (not Exclusive Appropriation) Given To Birth, Is Neither Unnatural, Nor Unjust, Nor Impolite.