Man Created God, Not God, Man

A Bold Onset Is Half The Battle.

To This Wonderful Page In Our Country's History Another More Glorious Still Will Be Added, And The Slave Shall Show At Last To His Free Brothers A Sharpened Sword Forged From The Links Of His Fetters.

Bacchus Has Drowned More Men Than Neptune.

Ah, No, Far Be From Me A Thought Which I Loathe Like Poison.

I Offer Neither Pay, Nor Quarters, Nor Food; I Offer Only Hunger, Thirst, Forced Marches, Battles And Death. Let Him Who Loves His Country With His Heart, And Not Merely With His Lips, Follow Me.