It Is The Act Of A Bad

Death Darkens His Eyes, And Unplumes His Wings, Yet The Sweetest Song Is The Last He Sings: Live So, My Love, That When Death Shall Come, Swan-like And Sweet It May Waft Thee Home.

There Is No Being Of Any Race Who, If He Finds The Proper Guide, Cannot Attain To Virtue.

When A Government Becomes Powerful It Is Destructive, Extravagant And Violent; It Is An Usurer Which Takes Bread From Innocent Mouths And Deprives Honorable Men Of Their Substance, For Votes With Which To Perpetuate Itself.

Armed Forces Abroad Are Of Little Value Unless There Is Prudent Counsel At Home

It Is Not Enough Merely Possess Virtue, As If It Were An Art; It Should Be Practiced.