This Is A Court Of Law, Not

To Be Forgotten Is To Sleep In Peace With The Undisturbed Myriads, No Longer Subject To The Chills And Heats, The Blasts, The Sleet, The Dust, Which Assail In Endless Succession That Shadow Of A Man Which We Call His Reputation.

Taxes Are The Price We Pay For A Civilized Society.

It Seems To Me That At This Time We Need Education In The Obvious More Than Investigation Of The Obscure.

Men Are Idolaters, And Want Something To Look At And Kiss And Hug, Or Throw Themselves Down Before; They Always Did, They Always Will; And If You Don't Make It Of Wood, You Must Make It Of Words.

I Think It Not Improbable That Man, Like The Grub That Prepares A Chamber For The Winged Thing It Never Has Seen But Is To Be - That Man May Have Cosmic Destinies That He Does Not Understand.