Deeds, Not Words Shall Speak Me.

Ask How To Live? Write, Write, Write, Anything; The World's A Fine Believing World, Write News.

Care-charming Sleep, Thou Easer Of All Woes, Brother To Death, Sweetly Thyself Dispose.

Corruption Is A Tree, Whose Branches Are Of An Immeasurable Length: They Spread Ev'rywhere; And The Dew That Drops From Thence Hath Infected Some Chairs And Stools Of Authority.

Man Is His Own Star, And The Soul That Can, Render An Honest And A Perfect Man, Commands All Light, All Influence, All Fate: Nothing To Him Falls Early Or Too Late. Our Acts Are Angels Are, For Good Or Ill: Our Fatal Shadows That Walk By Us Still.

Tyranny Is Yielding To The Lust Of The Governing.