It Is Not Flesh And Blood, But

Folly, Thou Conquerest, And I Must Yield! Against Stupidity The Very Gods Themselves Contend In Vain. Exalted Reason, Resplendent Daughter Of The Head Divine, Wise Foundress Of The System Of The World, Guide Of The Stars, Who Are Thou Then, If Thou, Bound To The Tail Of Folly's Uncurb'd Steed, Must, Vainly Shrieking, With The Drunken Crowd, Eyes Open, Plunge Down Headlong In The Abyss.

Will It, And Set To Work Briskly.

The Gentlest Man Cannot Live In Peace If It Does Not Please His Wicked Neighbor.

Secrecy Is For The Happy,--misery, Hopeless Misery, Needs No Veil; Under A Thousand Suns It Dares Act Openly.

The Moor Has Done His Work, The Moor May Go.