We Die Of Too Much Life.

Faith And Philosophy Are Air, But Events Are Brass.

What Like A Bullet Can Undeceive!

The Friendship Of Fine-hearted, Generous Boys, Nurtured Amid The Romance-engendering Comforts And Elegancies Of Life, Sometimes Transcends The Bounds Of Mere Boyishness, And Revels For A While In The Empyrean Of A Love Which Only Comes Short, By One Degree, Of The Sweetest Sentiment Entertained Between The Sexes.

That Mortal Man Who Hath More Of Joy Than Sorrow In Him, That Mortal Man Cannot Be True--not True, Or Undeveloped.

As With Ships, So With Men; He Who Turns His Back To His Foe Gives Him An Advantage.