Thou Art All The Comfort, The Gods

There Is Nothing Either Good Or Bad But Thinking Makes It So.

The Heart Hath Treble Wrong When It Is Barr'd The Aidance Of The Tongue.

The Bird That Hath Been Limed In A Bush, With Trembling Wings Misdoubteth Every Bush.

I Feel Within Me A Peace Above All Earthly Dignities, A Still And Quiet Conscience.

I Must Be Cruel, Only To Be Kind.