Those Who Labor In The Earth Are

If We Suffer Ourselves To Be Frightened From Our Post By Mere Lying, Surely The Enemy Will Use That Weapon; For What One So Cheap To Those Of Whose System Of Politics Morality Makes No Part?

Let Those Flatter, Who Fear: It Is Not An American Art. To Give Praise Where It Is Not Due, Might Be Well From The Venal, But Would Ill Beseem Those Who Are Asserting The Rights Of Human Nature.

Never Did A Prisoner, Released From His Chains, Feel Such Relief As I Shall On Shaking Off The Shackles Of Power.

Peace, That Glorious Moment In Time When Everyone Stops And Reloads.

Are We To Have A Censor Whose Imprimatur Shall Say What Books May Be Sold, And What We May Buy? And Who Is Thus To Dogmatize Religious Opinions For Our Citizens? Whose Foot Is To Be The Measure To Which Ours Are All To Be Cut Or Stretched? Is A Priest To Be Our Inquisitor, Or Shall A Layman, Simple As Ourselves, Set Up His Reason As The Rule Of What We Are To Read, And What We Must Believe?