We Are Not All Equal, Nor Can

Pain And Pleasure, Good And Evil, Come To Us From Unexpected Sources. It Is Not There Where We Have Gathered Up Our Brightest Hopes, That The Dawn Of Happiness Breaks. It Is Not There Where We Have Glanced Our Eye With Affright, That We Find The Deadliest Gloom. What Should This Teach Us? To Bow To The Great And Only Source Of Light, And Live Humbly And With Confiding Resignation.

Superstition Is The Poetry Of Life.

Thou Must (in Commanding And Winning, Or Serving And Losing, Suffering Or Triumphing) Be Either Anvil Or Hammer.

The Church Alone Beyond All Question Has For Ill-gotten Goods The Right Digestion.

Pity On The Person Who Has Become Accustomed To Seeing In Necessity Something Arbitrary, Who Ascribes To The Arbitrary Some Sort Of Reason, And Even Claims That Following That Sort Of Reason Has Religious Value.