Some To The Fascination Of

Those Flimsy Webs That Break As Soon As Wrought, Attain Not To The Dignity Of Thought.

Some Drill And Bore The Solid Earth, And From The Strata There Extract A Register, By Which We Learn, That He Who Made It, And Reveal'd Its Date To Moses, Was Mistaken In Its Age.

A Heretic, My Dear Sir, Is A Fellow Who Disagrees With You Regarding Something Neither Of You Knows Anything About.

In Man Or Woman, But Far Most In Man, And Most Of All In Man That Ministers, And Serves The Altar, In My Soul I Loathe All Affectation. 'tis My Perfect Scorn: Object Of My Implacable Disgust.

Truth Is The Golden Girdle Of The Globe.