The Joys Of The Evil Flow Away

Me, Rule? Me, Place The State Under My Law, When My Feeble Reason No Longer Rules Even Myself!

Sir, That Much Prudence Calls For Too Much Worry; I Cannot Foresee Misfortunes So Far Away.

Disagreeable Suspicions Are Usually The Fruits Of A Second Marriage.

How Good Is God! How Sweet His Yoke!

Can A Faith That Does Nothing Be Called Sincere?