Our Aspirations Are Our Possibilities.

A Book Should Teach Us To Enjoy Life, Or To Endure It.

Yet Reason Frowns In War's Unequal Game, Where Wasted Nations Raise A Single Name; And Mortgag'd States Their Grandsire's Wreaths Regret, From Age To Age In Everlasting Debt; Wreaths Which At Last The Dear-bought Right Convey To Rust On Medals, Or On Stones Decay.

Men Have Solicitude About Fame; And The Greater Share They Have Of It, The More Afraid They Are Of Losing It.

Who Drives Fat Oxen Should Himself Be Fat.

Money Confounds Subordination.