The Pure In Heart Are Slow To

When The Cup Of Any Sensual Pleasure Is Drained To The Bottom, There Is Always Poison In The Dregs.

When Alexander Had Subdued The World, And Wept That None Were Left To Dispute His Arms, His Tears Were An Involuntary Tribute To A Monarchy That He Knew Not, Man's Empire Over Himself.

Bright Was The Summer Of 1296. The War Which Had Desolated Scotland Was Then At An End.

A Generous Spirit Is As Eloquent In Acknowledging Benefits As It Is Bounteous In Bestowing Them.

Yet Happiness Isn't Something You Chase, It's Something You Are. It's Something You Think, It's Something You Believe.