Happiness Was Born A Twin.

I Do Detest Everything Which Is Not Perfectly Mutual.

So The Struck Eagle, Stretch'd Upon The Plain, No More Through Rolling Clouds To Soar Again, View'd His Own Feather On The Fatal Dart, And Wing'd The Shaft That Quiver'd In His Heart.

Adversity Is The First Path To Truth.

Such Hath It Been--shall Be--beneath The Sun The Many Still Must Labour For The One.

Fame Is The Thirst Of Youth.