Laughter Means Sympathy.

We Have Not The Love Of Greatness, But The Love Of The Love Of Greatness.

At The Bottom There Is No Perfect History; There Is None Such Conceivable. All Past Centuries Have Rotted Down, And Gone Confusedly Dumb And Quiet.

No Sooner Does A Great Man Depart, And Leave His Character As Public Property, Than A Crowd Of Little Men Rushes Towards It. There They Are Gathered Together, Blinking Up To It With Such Vision As They Have, Scanning It From Afar, Hovering Round It This Way And That, Each Cunningly Endeavoring, By All Arts, To Catch Some Reflex Of It In The Little Mirror Of Himself.

Make Yourself An Honest Man, And Then You May Be Sure There Is One Less Rascal In The World.

Violence Does Even Justice Unjustly.