The Entire World Is My

Nothing Is So Foolish, They Say, As For A Man To Stand For Office And Woo The Crowd To Win Its Vote, Buy Its Support With Presents, Court The Applause Of All Those Fools And Feel Self-satisfied When They Cry Their Approval, And Then In His Hour Of Triumph To Be Carried Round Like An Effigy For The Public To Stare At, And End Up Cast In Bronze To Stand In The Market Place.

What Passes Out Of One's Mouth Passes Into A Hundred Ears. It Is A Great Misfortune Not To Have Sense Enough To Speak Well.

Great Abundance Of Riches Cannot Be Gathered And Kept By Any Man Without Sin.

Besides, It Happens (how, I Cannot Tell) That An Idea Launched Like A Javelin In Proverbial Form Strikes With Sharper Point On The Hearer's Mind And Leaves Implanted Barbs For Meditation.

I Put Up With This Church, In The Hope That One Day It Will Become Better, Just As It Is Constrained To Put Up With Me In The Hope That I Will Become Better.