In Death A Hero, As In Life

As With Narrow-necked Bottles; The Less They Have In Them, The More Noise They Make In Pouring Out.

Lo! The Poor Indian, Whose Untutored Mind Sees God In Clouds, Or Hears Him In The Wind.

There Should Be, Methinks, As Little Merit In Loving A Woman For Her Beauty As In Loving A Man For His Prosperity; Both Being Equally Subject To Change.

Blessed Is The Man Who Expects Nothing, For He Shall Never Be Disappointed Was The Ninth Beatitude.

The Lot Of Man - To Suffer And To Die.