We Are Poor, Indeed, When We Have

In Argument, Truth Always Prevails Finally; In Politics, Falsehood Always.

Consult Duty Not Events.

States, Like Men, Have Their Growth, Their Manhood, Their Decrepitude, Their Decay.

Something Of The Severe Hath Always Been Appertaining To Order And To Grace; And The Beauty That Is Not Too Liberal Is Sought The Most Ardently, And Loved The Longest.

In The Hours Of Distress And Misery, The Eyes Of Every Mortal Turn To Friendship; In The Hours Of Gladness And Conviviality, What Is Our Want? It Is Friendship. When The Heart Overflows With Gratitude, Or With Any Other Sweet Or Sacred Sentiment, What Is The Word To Which It Would Give Utterance? A Friend.