Those Who Arrive At The End Of

Wait Without Thought, For You Are Not Ready For Thought.

Success Is Relative. It Is What We Make Of The Mess We Have Made Of Things.

The Church Must Be Forever Building, For It Is Forever Decaying Within And Attacked From Without.

The Great Ages Did Not Contain The Best Talent, They Wasted Less.

What Have We Given? My Friend, Blood Shaking My Heart The Awful Daring Of A Moment's Surrender Which An Age Of Prudence Can Never Retract By This, And This Only, We Have Existed.