I Am Indebted To My Father For

I Am Dying With The Help Of Too Many Physicians.

Are You Still To Learn That The End And Perfection Of Our Victories Is To Avoid The Vices And Infirmities Of Those Whom We Subdue?

I Send You A Kaffis Of Mustard Seed, That You May Taste And Acknowledge The Bitterness Of My Victory.

Are There No More Worlds That I Might Conquer?

Let Us Conduct Ourselves So That All Men Wish To Be Our Friends And All Fear To Be Our Enemies.