I Think It Not Improbable That Man,

The Law Is The Witness And External Deposit Of Our Moral Life. Its History Is The History Of The Moral Development Of The Race.

To Be Forgotten Is To Sleep In Peace With The Undisturbed Myriads, No Longer Subject To The Chills And Heats, The Blasts, The Sleet, The Dust, Which Assail In Endless Succession That Shadow Of A Man Which We Call His Reputation.

I Have No Respect For The Passion Of Equality, Which Seems To Me Merely Idealizing Envy - I Don't Disparage Envy, But I Don't Accept It As Legitimately My Master.

General Propositions Do Not Decide Concrete Cases. The Decision Will Depend On A Judgment Or Intuition More Subtle Than Any Articulate Major Premise.

The Wind Blows Out, The Bubble Dies; The Spring Entomb'd In Autumn Lies; The Dew Dries Up; The Star Is Shot; The Flight Is Past, And Man Forgot.