Falsehood Is For A Season.

Religion Is The Eldest Sister Of Philosophy: On Whatever Subjects They May Differ, It Is Unbecoming In Either To Quarrel, And Most So About Their Inheritance.

Tyrants Never Perish From Tyranny, But Always From Folly,-when Their Fantasies Have Built Up A Palace For Which The Earth Has No Foundation.

I See The Rainbow In The Sky, The Dew Upon The Grass; I See Them, And I Ask Not Why They Glimmer Or They Pass. With Folded Arms I Linger Not To Call Them Back; 'twere Vain: In This, Or In Some Other Spot, I Know They'll Shine Again.

Wisdom Consisteth Not In Knowing Many Things, Nor Even In Knowing Them Thoroughly; But In Choosing And In Following What Conduces The Most Certainly To Our Lasting Happiness And True Glory.

Moroseness Is The Evening Of Turbulence.