The More I See Of The Representatives

Poetry Has Been The Guardian Angel Of Humanity In All Ages.

Shall Not This Bygone Eden That We Knew In Our Eternal Life Have Shape And Hue? For Where Time Is Not Shall Not All Time Be? In That Calm Breast Whereto Our Souls Are Cleaving Shall We Not Find Our Loved Ones Beyond Grieving About The Hearth-stone Of Eternity?

Civil Wars Leave Nothing But Tombs.

If Greatness Of Purpose, Smallness Of Means, And Astonishing Results Are The Three Criteria Of A Human Genius, Who Could Dare Compare Any Great Man In History With Muhammad?

I Love The People Because I Believe In God. For, If I Did Not Believe In God, What Would The People Be To Me? I Should Enjoy At Ease That Lucky Throw Of The Dice, Which Chance Had Turned Up For Me, The Day Of My Birth; And, With A Secret, Savage Joy, I Should Say, "so Much The Worse For The Losers!--the World Is A Lottery. Woe To The Conquered!