In Politics, Merit Is Rewarded By The

We Trifle When We Assign Limits To Our Desires, Since Nature Hath Set None.

It Is Ever The Invisible That Is The Object Of Our Profoundest Worship. With The Lover It Is Not The Seen But The Unseen That He Muses Upon.

He Has But One Great Fear That Fears To Do Wrong.

Care, Admitted As Guest, Quickly Turns To Be Master.

We Repose Too Much Upon The Actual, When We Should Be Seeking To Develop The Possibilities Of Our Being. It Is True Of Nearly All Of Us, That What We Have Done Is Little Compared With What We Might Have Accomplished, Or May Hereafter Effect.