For Hate Is Strong, And

Everyone Says That Forgiveness Is A Lovely Idea Until He Has Something To Forgive.

We Waste Our Best Years In Distilling The Sweetest Flowers Of Life Into Potions Which, After All, Do Not Immortalize, But Only Intoxicate.

The Air Of Summer Was Sweeter Than Wine.

The Mind Of The Scholar, If You Would Have It Large And Liberal, Should Come In Contact With Other Minds. It Is Better That His Armor Should Be Somewhat Bruised By Rude Encounters Even, Than Hang Forever Rusting On The Wall.

Great Men Stand Like Solitary Towers In The City Of God.