Fix Yourself Upon The Wealthy. In A

He Who Owns The Soil, Owns Up To The Sky.

We Are All Slaves To The Shining Metal.

A Creature Undefiled By The Taint Of The World, Unvexed By Its Injustice, Unwearied By Its Hollow Pleasures; A Being Fresh From The Source Of Light, With Something Of Its Universal Lustre In It. If Childhood Be This, How Holy The Duty To See That In Its Onward Growth It Shall Be No Other!

Reputations, Like Beavers And Cloaks, Shall Last Some People Twice The Time Of Others.

If Slander Be A Snake, It Is A Winged One - It Flies As Well As Creeps.