History Is A Great Dust

All Greatness Is Unconscious, Or It Is Little And Naught.

Venerable To Me Is The Hard Hand,--crooked, Coarse,--wherein, Notwithstanding, Lies A Cunning Virtue, Indispensably Royal As Of The Sceptre Of The Planet.

True Friends, Like Ivy And The Wall Both Stand Together, And Together Fall.

The Vulgarity Of Inanimate Things Requires Time To Get Accustomed To; But Living, Breathing, Bustling, Plotting, Planning, Human Vulgarity Is A Species Of Moral Ipecacuanha, Enough To Destroy Any Comfort.

Out Of Eternity The New Day Is Born; Into Eternity At Night Will Return.