The Wrong That Rouses Our Angry Passions

The Stars Are Golden Fruit Upon A Tree All Out Of Reach.

One's Self-satisfaction Is An Untaxed Kind Of Property Which It Is Very Unpleasant To Find Deprecated.

We Are Led On, Like Little Children, By A Way We Know Not.

The Last Refuge Of Intolerance Is In Not Tolerating The Intolerant.

It Is In These Acts Called Trivialities That The Seeds Of Joy Are Forever Wasted, Until Men And Women Look Round With Haggard Faces At The Devastation Their Own Waste Has Made, And Say, The Earth Bears No Harvest Of Sweetness - Calling Their Denial Knowledge.