Wit Is Better As A Seasoning Than

To Death We Owe Our Life; The Passing Of One Generation Opens A Way For Another.

Pride Is Like The Beautiful Acacia, That Lifts Its Head Proudly Above Its Neighbor Plants-forgetting That It Too, Like Them, Has Its Roots In The Dirt.

In General, Inquiry Ceases When We Adopt A Theory. After That, We Overlook Whatever Makes Against It, And See And Think, And Talk And Write, Only In Its Favor. Indeed, When We Have A Snug, Comfortable Theory, To Which We Are Much Attached, They Appear To Us As A Very Mean Set Of Facts That Will Not Square With It.

He Half Retrieves A Defeat Who Yields To It Gracefully.

The Beauty Seen Is Partly In Him Who Sees It.