There Is Nothing Like The Dead Cold

The Only Condition Of Peace In This World Is To Have No Ideas, Or, At Least Not To Express Them.

There Is No Friend Like The Old Friend, Who Has Shared Our Morning Days, No Greeting Like His Welcome, No Homage Like His Praise: Fame Is The Scentless Sunflower, With Gaudy Crown Of Gold; But Friendship Is The Breathing Rose, With Sweets In Every Fold.

To Have Doubted One's Own First Principles Is The Mark Of A Civilized Man.

Where We Stand Is Not As Important As The Direction In Which We Are Moving.

There Is Something Frightful In The Way In Which Not Only Characteristic Qualities, But Particular Manifestations Of Them, Are Repeated From Generation To Generation.