For All Have Not The Gift Of

To Take Up Half On Trust, And Half To Try, Name It Not Faith But Bungling Bigotry.

War Is The Trade Of Kings.

Successful Crimes Alone Are Justified.

I Feel My Sinews Slackened With The Fright, And A Cold Sweat Trills Down All Over My Limbs, As If I Were Dissolving Into Water.

What Passion Cannot Music Raise And Quell!