Sing It Not In Mournful

All Truths Are Old, And All That We Have To Do Is Recognize And Utter Them Anew.

Sometimes Our Fate Resembles A Fruit Tree In Winter. Who Would Think That Those Branches Would Turn Green Again And Blossom, But We Hope It, We Know It.

If Youth Is A Fault, It Is One That One Gets Rid Of Soon Enough.

Chess Is The Touchstone Of Intellect.

The Proper Place For Liberality Is In The Realm Of The Emotions.