We Are All Bound To The Throne

In The Works Of Man, Everything Is As Poor As Its Author; Vision Is Confined, Means Are Limited, Scope Is Restricted, Movements Are Labored, And Results Are Humdrum.

Man's Destructive Hand Spares Nothing That Lives; He Kills To Feed Himself, He Kills To Clothe Himself, He Kills To Adorn Himself, He Kills To Attack, He Kills To Defend Himself, He Kills To Instruct Himself, He Kills To Amuse Himself, He Kills For The Sake Of Killing.

The Great Fault In Women Is To Desire To Be Like Men.

Genius Does Not Seem To Derive Any Great Support From Syllogisms. Its Carriage Is Free; Its Manner Has A Touch Of Inspiration. We See It Come, But We Never See It Walk.

The Concept Of Number Is The Obvious Distinction Between The Beast And Man.