Words Are Mere Sound And Smoke, Dimming

A Clever Man Commits No Minor Blunders.

The Soul Of Man Is Like To Water; From Heaven It Cometh, To Heaven It Riseth And Then Returning To Earth, Forever Alternating.

The Bed Of Flowers Loosens Amain, The Beauteous Snowdrops Droop O'er The Plain. The Crocus Opens Its Glowing Bud, Like Emeralds Others, Others, Like Blood. With Saucy Gesture Primroses Flare, And Roguish Violets, Hidden With Care; And Whatsoever There Stirs And Strives, The Spring's Contented, If Works And Thrives.

Taste Is Only To Be Educated By Contemplation, Not Of The Tolerably Good But Of The Truly Excellent. I Therefore Show You Only The Best Works; And When You Are Grounded In These, You Will Have A Standard For The Rest, Which You Will Know How To Value, Without Overrating Them.

If We Could Do Away With Death, We Wouldn't Object; To Do Away With Capital Punishment Will Be More Difficult. Were That To Happen, We Would Reinstate It From Time To Time.