When We Serve The Great, They Are

Everything Is Change; And You Cannot Step Twice Into The Same River.

In Hatred As In Love, We Grow Like The Thing We Brood Upon. What We Loathe, We Graft Into Our Very Soul.

It Is Bitter To Lose A Friend To Evil Before One Loses Him To Death.

It Is Something, I Thought, When A King Can Put A Courtesan To The Blush.

The Perpetual Stream Of Human Nature Is Formed Into Ever-changing Shallows, Eddies, Falls And Pools By The Land Over Which It Passes. Perhaps The Only Real Value Of History Lies In Considering This Endlessly Varied Play Between The Essence And The Accidents.