In Dress, Seek The Middle Between Foppery

New Constellations Of Truth Are Daily Discovered In The Firmament Of Knowledge, And New Stars Are Daily Shining Forth In Each Constellation.

Both Poetry And Philosophy Are Prodigal Of Eulogy Over The Mind Which Ransoms Itself By Its Own Energy From A Captivity To Custom, Which Breaks The Common Bounds Of Empire, And Cuts A Simplon Over Mountains Of Difficulty For Its Own Purposes, Whether Of Good Or Of Evil.

Manners Easily And Rapidly Mature Into Morals.

No Combatants Are So Unequally Matched As When One Is Shackled With Error, While The Other Rejoices In The Self-demonstrability Of Truth.

Scientific Truth Is Marvelous, But Moral Truth Is Divine And Whoever Breathes Its Air And Walks By Its Light Has Found The Lost Paradise.