We Are All Patchwork, And

We Imagine Much More Appropriately An Artisan On His Toilet Seat Or On His Wife Than A Great President, Venerable By His Demeanorand His Ability. It Seems To Us That They Do Not Stoop From Their Lofty Thrones Even To Live.

It Is Good To Rub And Polish Our Brain Against That Of Others.

Our Religion Is Made To Eradicate Vices, Instead It Encourages Them, Covers Them, And Nurtures Them.

Virtue Rejects Facility To Be Her Companion. She Requires A Craggy, Rough And Thorny Way.

We Do Not Correct The Man We Hang; We Correct Others By Him.