Every Harlot Was A Virgin Once.

One Thought Fills Immensity.

Little Lamb, Who Made Thee? Dost Thou Know Who Made Thee?

Works Of Art Can Only Be Produc'd In Perfection Where The Man Is Either In Affluence Or Is Above The Care Of It.

Reason, Or The Ratio Of All We Have Already Known, Is Not The Same That It Shall Be When We Know More.

Each Man Must Create His Own System Or Else He Is A Slave To Another Mans