Pride And Weakness Are Siamese Twins.

Stern Men With Empires In Their Brains.

For Humanity Sweeps Onward: Where Today The Martyr Stands, On The Morrow Crouches Judas With The Silver In His Hands; Far In Front The Cross Stands Ready And The Crackling Fagots Burn, While The Hooting Mob Of Yesterday In Silent Awe Return To Glean Up The Scattered Ashes Into History's Golden Urn.

For Only By Unlearning Wisdom Comes.

Blessed Are They Who Have Nothing To Say And Who Cannot Be Persuaded To Say It.

Stories Now, To Suit A Public Taste, Must Be Half Epigram, Half Pleasant Vice.