Oaths Are Not The Credit

Whoever Is New To Power Is Always Harsh.

Justice Shines In Very Smoky Homes, And Honors The Righteous; But The Gold-spangled Mansions Where The Hands Are Unclean She Leaves With Eyes Averted.

It Is The Nature Of Mortals To Kick A Fallen Man.

For Somehow This Is Tyranny's Disease, To Trust No Friends.

Human Prosperity Never Rests But Always Craves More, Till Blown Up With Pride It Totters And Falls. From The Opulent Mansions Pointed At By All Passers-by None Warns It Away, None Cries, 'let No More Riches Enter!'.