Love Your Friends And Be Just To

There Are Treasures In Books That All The Money In The World Cannot Buy, But The Poorest Laborer Can Have For Nothing.

I Know Of No Crime That Has Not Been Defended By The Church, In One Form Or Other. The Church Is Not A Pioneer; It Accepts A New Truth, Last Of All, And Only When Denial Has Become Useless.

I Do Not See How It Is Possible For An Intelligent Human Being To Conclude That The Song Of Solomon Is The Work Of God, And That The Tragedy Of Lear Was The Work Of An Uninspired Man.

The Old Man Has Been Long At The Fair. He Is Acquainted With The Jugglers At The Booths. His Curiosity Has Been Satisfied. He No Longer Cares For The Exceptional, The Monstrous, The Marvelous And Deformed. He Looks Through And Beyond The Gilding, The Glitter And Gloss, Not Only Of Things, But Of Conduct, Of Manners, Theories, Religions And Philosophies. He Sees Clearer. The Light No Longer Shines In His Eyes.

I Have Made Up My Mind That If There Is A God, He Will Be Merciful To The Merciful. Upon That Rock I Stand. That He Will Not Torture The Forgiving. Upon That Rock I Stand. That Every Man Should Be True To Himself, And That There Is No World, No Star In Which Honesty Is A Crime. Upon That Rock I Stand.