Here Pity Only Lives When It Is

Before Me Things Created Were None, Save Things Eternal, And Eternal I Endure. All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here.

Give Unto Us This Day The Daily Manna Without Which, In This Desert Where We Dwell, He Must Go Backward Who Would Most Advance.

Follow Your Own Star!

These Have Not The Hope To Die.

Lying In A Featherbed Will Bring You No Fame, Nor Staying Beneath The Quilt, And He Who Uses Up His Life Without Achieving Fame Leaves No More Vestige Of Himself On Earth Than Smoke In The Air Or Foam Upon The Water.