My Dull Brain Was Wrought With Things

I Could Be Well Content To Entertain The Lag-end Of My Life With Quiet Hours.

Tis Our Fast Intent To Shake All Cares And Business From Our Age, Conferring Them On Younger Strengths, While We Unburdened Crawl Toward Death.

To Pore Upon A Book, To Seek The Light Of Truth.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men.

Sweet Are The Uses Of Adversity