Absence Of Occupation Is Not Rest; A

I Venerate The Man Whose Heart Is Warm, Whose Hands Are Pure, Whose Doctrine And Whose Life, Coincident, Exhibit Lucid Proof That He Is Honest In The Sacred Cause.

My Soul Is Sick With Every Day's Report Of Wrong And Outrage With Which Earth Is Filled.

The Bud May Have A Bitter Taste, But Sweet Will Be The Flower.

The Man That Hails You Tom Or Jack, And Proves By Thumps Upon Your Back How He Esteems Your Merit, Is Such A Friend, That One Had Need Be Very Much His Friend Indeed To Pardon Or To Bear It.

Fanaticism, The False Fire Of An Overheated Mind.