France Lost A Great Novel Last Night.

Since We Shall Love Each Other, I Shall Be Great And You Shall Be Rich.

Who Then Can Calculate The Path Of The Molecule? How Do We Know That The Creations Of Worlds Are Not Determined By The Fall Of Grains Of Sand?

I Don't Mind What Congress Does, As Long As They Don't Do It In The Streets And Frighten The Horses.

Jesus Wept; Voltaire Smiled. From That Divine Tear And From That Human Smile Is Derived The Grace Of Present Civilization.

Mothers Arms Are Made Of Tenderness, And Sweet Sleep Blesses The Child Who Lies Therein.