The Hours Of Folly Are Measured By

The Roaring Of Lions, The Howling Of Wolves, The Raging Of The Stormy Sea, And The Destructive Sword, Are Portions Of Eternity, Too Great For The Eye Of Man.

The Generations Of Men Run On In The Tide Of Time, But Leave Their Destined Lineaments Permanent For Ever And Ever.

Dip Him In The River Who Loves Water.

No Bird Soars Too High If He Soars With His Own Wings.

Knowledge Of Ideal Beauty Is Not To Be Acquired. It Is Born With Us. Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; Theyare Truly Himself.