I Almost Think It Is

Names Are Changed More Readily Than Doctrines, And Doctrines More Readily Than Ceremonies.

Sir, I Have Quarrelled With My Wife; And A Man Who Has Quarrelled With His Wife Is Absolved From All Duty To His Country.

Time, The Foe Of Man's Dominion, Wheels Around In Ceaseless Flight, Scattering From His Hoary Pinion Shades Of Everlasting Night.

How Troublesome Is Day! It Calls Us From Our Sleep Away; It Bids Us From Our Pleasant Dreams Awake, And Sends Us Forth To Keep Or Break Our Promises To Pay. How Troublesome Is Day!

My Quarrel With Him Is, That His Works Contain Nothing Worth Quoting; And A Book That Furnishes No Quotations, Is Me Judice, No Book,—it Is A Plaything.