The Country Is Not Priest-ridded, But Press-ridden.

Only A Look And A Voice; Then Darkness Again And Silence.

Time Has A Doomsday Book, Upon Whose Pages He Is Continually Recording Illustrious Names. But As Often As A New Name Is Written There, An Old One Disappears. Only A Few Stand In Illuminated Characters Never To Be Effaced.

In Old Age Our Bodies Are Worn-out Instruments, On Which The Soul Tries In Vain To Play The Melodies Of Youth. But Because The Instrument Has Lost Its Strings, Or Is Out Of Tune, It Does Not Follow That The Musician Has Lost His Skill.

Don't Cross The Bridge Til You Come To It.

If We Could Read The Secret History Of Our Enemies.