Hope Died As I Was Led Unto

The Language Of The Face Is Not Taught By The Schools; It Is Intuitive, And To The Observant Is Always Legible.

He Is Coming Like The Glory Of The Morning On The Wave, He Is Wisdom To The Mighty, He Is Succour To The Brave, So The World Shall Be His Footstool, And The Soul Of Time His Slave, Our God Is Marching On.

The Greatest Evils Of Society Are Goods That Have Refused To Go On, But Have Sat Down On The Highway, Saying To The World, "we Stop Here; Do You Stop Also.

I Sometimes Think God Allows Great Britain To Be Unprincipled For The Good Of Mankind.

It Is Not Good For Beauty That It Should Be A Profession.