God Planteth In Mortal Men The Cause

But From The Good Health Of The Mind Comes That Which Is Dear To All And The Object Of Prayer-happiness.

Watchful Are The Gods Of All Hands With Slaughter Stained. The Black Furies Wait, And When A Man Has Grown By Luck, Not Justice, Great, With Sudden Overturn Of Chance They Wear Him To A Shade, And, Cast Down To Perdition, Who Shall Save Him?

He Who Learns Must Suffer. And Even In Our Sleep Pain That Cannot Forget Falls Drop By Drop Upon The Heart, And In Our Own Despair, Against Our Will, Comes Wisdom To Us By The Awful Grace Of God.

Obedience Is The Mother Of Success And Is Wedded To Safety.

To Learn Is To Be Young, However Old.