A Few Drops Sprinkled On The Torch

He That Follows The Advice Of Reason Has A Mind That Is Elevated Above The Reach Of Injury; That Sits Above The Clouds, In A Calm And Quiet Ether, And With A Brave Indifferency Hears The Rolling Thunders Grumble And Burst Under His Feet.

See Yonder Rock From Which The Fountain Gushes; Is It Less Compact Of Adamant, Though Waters Flow From It? Firm Hearts Have Moister Eyes.

A Sinful Heart Makes Feeble Hand.

O, What A Tangled Web We Weave When First We Practise To Deceive!

As Good Play For Nothing, You Know, As Work For Nothing.