Falsehood Is A Perennial Spring.

Delusion And Weakness Produce Not One Mischief The Less, Because They Are Universal.

The March Of The Human Mind Is Slow.

History Is A Pact Between The Dead, The Living, And The Yet Unborn.

A Good Parson Once Said That Where Mystery Begins Religion Ends. Cannot I Say, As Truly At Least, Of Human Laws, That Where Mystery Begins Justice Ends?

Art Is A Partnership Not Only Between Those Who Are Living But Between Those Who Are Dead And Those Who Are Yet To Be Born.