A Writer Only Begins A Book. A

Life Of Ages, Richly Poured, Love Of God Unspent And Free, Flowing In The Prophet's Word And The People's Liberty! Never Was To Chosen Race That Unstinted Tide Confined; Thine Is Every Time And Place, Fountain Sweet Of Heart And Mind!

As All Error Is Meanness, It Is Incumbent On Every Man Who Consults His Own Dignity, To Retract It As Soon As He Discovers It.

It Is Man's Own Fault, It Is From Want Of Use, If His Mind Grows Torpid In Old Age.

I Do Not Envy A Clergyman's Life As An Easy Life, Nor Do I Envy The Clergyman Who Makes It An Easy Life.

He Who Praises Everybody, Praises Nobody.