The Only Condition Of Peace In This

One Of The Eternal Conflicts Out Of Which Life Is Made Up Is That Between The Effort Of Every Man To Get The Most He Can For His Services, And That Of Society, Disguised Under The Name Of Capital, To Get His Services For The Least Possible Return.

Old Age Is Like An Opium Dream. Nothing Seems Real Except The Unreal.

Lord, Bid War's Trumpet Cease; Fold The Whole Earth In Peace.

Taxes Are The Price We Pay For A Civilized Society.

I Despise Making The Most Of One's Time. Half Of The Pleasures Of Life Consist Of The Opportunities One Has Neglected.