We Have Not Wings We Cannot Soar;

I Am More Afraid Of Deserving Criticism Than Of Receiving It.

Our Pleasures And Our Discontents, Are Rounds By Which We May Ascend.

The Moon Is Hidden Behind A Cloud... On The Leaves Is A Sound Of Falling Rain... No Other Sounds Than These I Hear; The Hour Of Midnight Must Be Near... So Many Ghosts, And Forms Of Fright, Have Started From Their Graves To-night, They Have Driven Sleep From Mine Eyes Away: I Will Go Down To The Chapel And Pray.

People Demand Freedom Only When They Have No Power.

Difficulty On The Way To Victory Is Opportunity For God To Work