Truth Exists For The Wise, Beauty For

What Shall He Fear That Does Not Fear Death.

Fate Always Wins, For Our Own Heart Within Us Imperiously Furthers Its Designs.

A Childlike Mind In Its Simplicity Practises That Science Of Good To Which The Wise May Be Blind.

The Storm Is Master. Man, As A Ball, Is Tossed Twixt Winds And Billows.

Sorrows Must Die With The Joys They Outnumber.