There Are Four Kinds Of

A Man Is The Sum Of His Ancestors; To Reform Him You Must Begin With A Dead Ape And Work Downward Through A Million Graves. He Is Like The Lower End Of A Suspended Chain; You Can Sway Him Slightly To The Right Or The Left, But Remove Your Hand And He Falls Into Line With The Other Links.

One Of The Greatest Of Poets, Coleridge Was One Of The Wisest Of Men, And It Was Not For Nothing That He Read Us This Parable. Let Us Have A Little Less Of "hands Across The Sea," And A Little More Of That Elemental Distrust That Is The Security Of Nations. War Loves To Come Like A Thief In The Night; Professions Of Eternal Amity Provide The Night.

Platitude: All That Is Mortal Of A Departed Truth.

A Rabbit's Foot May Bring Good Luck To You, But It Brought None To The Rabbit.

Mine, Adj. Belonging To Me If I Can Hold Or Seize It.