In Politics As On A

Sweet Moonlight, Shining Full And Clear, Why Do You Light My Torture Here? How Often Have You Seen Me Toil, Burning Last Drops Of Midnight Oil. On Books And Papers As I Read, My Friend, Your Mournful Light You Shed. If Only I Could Flee This Den And Walk The Mountain-tops Again, Through Moonlit Meadows Make My Way, In Mountain Caves With Spirits Play - Released From Learning's Musty Cell, Your Healing Dew Would Make Me Well!

Where There Are No Women There Are No Good Manners

He Who Knows No Foreign Languages Knows Nothing Of His Own.

My Worthy Friend, Gray Are All Theories And Green Alone Life's Golden Tree.

Could We Perfect Human Nature, We Might Also Expect A Perfect State Of Things.