Though I Am Weak, Yet

Death Comes To All, But Great Achievements Build A Monument Which Shall Endure Until The Sun Grows Cold.

A Man Must Consider What A Blindman's-buff Is This Game Of Conformity.

In The Woods Too, A Man Casts Off His Years, As The Snake His Slough, And At What Period Soever Of Life, Is Always A Child. In The Woods, Is Perpetual Youth.

For Every Grain Of Wit There Is A Grain Of Folly.

What Potent Blood Hath Modest May.