Pain Makes Hens And Poets

We Only Hear Questions That We Are Able To Answer.

On The Tree, Future, We Build Our Nest; And In Our Solitude Eagles Shall Bring Us Nourishment In Their Beaks!

The Most Unequivocal Sign Of Contempt For Man Is To Regard Everybody Merely As A Means To One's Own Ends, Or Of No Account Whatever.

The Press, The Machine, The Railway, The Telegraph Are Premises Whose Thousand-year Conclusion No One Has Yet Dared To Draw.

Not To Him Who Is Offensive To Us Are We Most Unfair, But To Him Who Doth Not Concern Us At All.