Every Sect Clamors For Toleration When It

Cut Off My Head, And Singular I Am, Cut Off My Tail, And Plural I Appear; Although My Middle's Left, There's Nothing There! What Is My Head Cut Off? A Sounding Sea; What Is My Tail Cut Off? A Rushing River; And In Their Mingling Depths I Fearless Play, Parent Of Sweetest Sounds, Yet Mute Forever.

The Chief-justice Was Rich, Quiet, And Infamous.

I Have Not The Smallest Doubt That, If We Had A Purely Democratic Government Here, The Effect Would Be The Same. Either The Poor Would Plunder The Rich, And Civilisation Would Perish; Or Order And Property Would Be Saved By A Strong Military Government, And Liberty Would Perish.

The Temple Of Silence And Reconciliation.

The Perfect Disinterestedness And Self-devotion Of Which Men Seem Incapable, But Which Is Sometimes Found In Women.