The Heart Forgets Its Sorrow And Ache.

Who Speaks The Truth Stabs Falsehood To The Heart.

No Man Can Produce Great Things Who Is Not Thoroughly Sincere In Dealing With Himself.

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.

No Price Is Set On The Lavish Summer; June May Be Had By The Poorest Comer.

The Traitor To Humanity Is The Traitor Most Accursed; Man Is More Than Constitutions; Better Rot Beneath The Sod, Than Be True To Church And State While We Are Doubly False To God.