No Great Man Lives In

A Fair Day's Wages For A Fair Day's Work.

Produce, Produce! Were It But The Pitifulest, Infinitesimal Fraction Of A Product, Produce It In God's Name. 'tis The Utmost Thou Hast In Thee? Out With It Then! Up, Up! Whatsoever Thy Hand Findeth To Do, Do It With Thy Whole Might.

That There Should One Man Die Ignorant Who Had Capacity For Knowledge, This I Call A Tragedy.

The Modern Majesty Consists In Work. What A Man Can Do Is His Greatest Ornament, And He Always Consults His Dignity By Doing It.

A Fourth Estate, Of Able Editors, Springs Up.