We Consume Our Tomorrows Fretting About Our

The Man Who Wishes To Bend Me With His Tale Of Woe Must Shed True Tears - Not Tears That Have Been Got Ready Overnight.

Learn Whom God Has Ordered You To Be, And In What Part Of Human Affairs You Have Been Placed.

Please Not Thyself The Flattering Crowd To Hear; 'tis Fulsome Stuff, To Please Thy Itching Ear. Survey Thy Soul, Not What Thou Does Appear, But What Thou Art.

Nothing Can Be Born Of Nothing; Nothing Can Be Resolved Into Nothing.

Is Any Man Free Except The One Who Can Pass His Life As He Pleases?