One Falls To The Ground In Trying

How Do You Know Antiquity Was Foolish? How Do You Know The Present Is Wise? Who Made It Foolish? Who Made It Wise?

A Certain Jollity Of Mind, Pickled In The Scorn Of Fortune.

I Am Going To Seek A Grand Perhaps.

The Probity That Scintillizes In The Superfices Of Your Persons Informs My Ratiocinating Faculty, In A Most Stupendous Manner, Of The Radiant Virtues Latent Within The Precious Caskets And Ventricles Of Your Minds.

Science Without Conscience Is The Soul's Perdition.