Too Much Trust Is Folly, In An

Death, After All, Is The Common Expectation From Birth. Neither Heroes Nor Cowards Can Escape It.

Life Goes Not In A Straight Line, Lad, But In A Circle. The First Half We Spend Venturing As Far As The World's End From Home And Kin And Stillness, And The Latter Half Brings Us Back, By Roundabout Ways But Surely, To That State From Which We Set Out.

There Is No One Who Cannot Be Hated, Against Whatever Odds. Nor Anyone Who Cannot Be Loved, Against All Reason.

The Mountains Of Today Are The Molehills Of Tomorrow.

Nothing Is More Pleasing And Engaging Than The Sense Of Having Conferred Benefits. Not Even The Gratification Of Receiving Them.