Words Are But Holy As

Love's Pestilence, And Her Slow Dogs Of War.

The Intense Atom Glows A Moment, Then Is Quenched In A Most Cold Repose.

The More We Study The More We Discover Our Ignorance.

The Nature Of A Narrow And Malevolent Spirit Is So Essentially Incompatible With Happiness As To Render It Inaccessible To The Influences Of The Benignant God.

All Love Is Sweet, Given Or Received.