Fire Is The Best Of Servants, But

Do Nothing, Only Keep Agitating, Debating; And Things Will Destroy Themselves.

All Greatness Is Unconscious, Or It Is Little And Naught.

Custom Doth Make Dotards Of Us All.

Heroes Have Gone Out; Quacks Have Come In; The Reign Of Quacks Has Not Ended With The Nineteenth Century. The Sceptre Is Held With A Firmer Grasp; The Empire Has A Wider Boundary. We Are All The Slaves Of Quackery In One Shape Or Another. Indeed, One Portion Of Our Being Is Always Playing The Successful Quack To The Other.

The Past Is Always Attractive Because It Is Drained Of Fear.