For Forms Of Faith Let Graceless Zealots

A Field Of Glory Is A Field For All.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be, In Every Work Regard The Writer's End, Since None Can Compass More Than They Intend; And If The Means Be Just, The Conduct True, Applause, In Spite Of Trivial Faults, Is Due.

Whoe'er He Be That Tells My Faults, I Hate Him Mortally.

Mankind Is Unamendable.

Wit Is The Lowest Form Of Humor.