Solitude Makes Us Tougher Towards Ourselves And

A Joke Is An Epigram On The Death Of A Feeling.

It Was The Sick And Decaying Who Despised The Body And Earth And Invented The Heavenly Realm And The Redemptive Drops Of Blood: But They Took Even These Sweet And Gloomy Poisons From Body And Earth. They Wanted To Escape Their Own Misery, And The Stars Were Too Far For Them.

To The Mediocre, Mediocrity Is A Form Of Happiness.

Not To Him Who Is Offensive To Us Are We Most Unfair, But To Him Who Doth Not Concern Us At All.

Follow In The Footsteps Of Your Fathers' Virtue! How Could You Hope To Climb High Unless Your Fathers' Will Climbs With You?