There Are Only Two Lasting Bequests We

In Politics As On A Sickbed Men Toss From Side To Side In Hope Of Lying More Comfortably.

The Traveler Was Active; He Went Strenuously In Search Of People, Of Adventure, Of Experience. The Tourist Is Passive.

The Misfortune In The State Is, That Nobody Can Enjoy Life In Peace, But That Everybody Must Govern; And In Art, That Nobody Will Enjoy What Has Been Produced, But That Every One Wants To Reproduce On His Own Account.

Thou Art In The End What Thou Art. Put On Wigs With Millions Of Curls, Set Thy Foot Upon Ell-high Rocks. Thou Abidest Ever--what Thou Art.

I Do Not Know Myself, And God Forbid That I Should.