All Men Whilst They Are Awake Are

Not By Lamentations And Mournful Chants Ought We To Celebrate The Funeral Of A Good Man, But By Hymns, For In Ceasing To Be Numbered With Mortals He Enters Upon The Heritage Of A Diviner Life.

Wickedness Is A Wonderfully Diligent Architect Of Misery, Of Shame, Accompanied With Terror, And Commotion, And Remorse, And Endless Perturbation.

Pompey Had Fought Brilliantly And In The End Routed Caesar's Whole Force... But Either He Was Unable To Or Else He Feared To Push On. Caesar [said] To His Friends: 'today The Enemy Would Have Won, If They Had Had A Commander Who Was A Winner.'

The First Man . . . Ventured To Call Food And Nourishment The Parts That Had A Little Before Bellowed And Cried, Moved And Lived. How Could His Eyes Endure The Slaughter When Throats Were Slit And Hides Flayed And Limbs Torn From Limb? How Could His Nose Endure The Stench? How Was It That The Pollution Did Not Turn Away His Taste, Which Made Contact With The Sores Of Others And Sucked Juices And Serums From Mortal Wounds?

Men Who Marry Wives Very Much Superior To Themselves Are Not So Truly Husbands To Their Wives As They Are Unawares Made Slaves To Their Position.