If There Is A God,

As Far As Possible, Join Faith To Reason.

Wretched Men Cringe Before Tyrants Who Have No Power, The Victims Of Their Trivial Hopes And Fears. They Do Not Realise That Anger Is Hopeless, Fear Is Pointless And Desire All A Delusion. He Whose Heart Is Fickle Is Not His Own Master, Has Thrown Away His Shield, Deserted His Post, And He Forges The Links Of The Chain That Holds Him.

For In All Adversity Of Fortune The Worst Sort Of Misery Is To Have Been Happy.

...whose Souls, Albeit In A Cloudy Memory, Yet Seek Back Their Good, But, Like Drunk Men, Know Not The Road Home.

In Every Kind Of Adversity, The Bitterest Part Of A Man's Affliction Is To Remember That He Once Was Happy.