Our friends, the enemy.

Our century is a brutal thinker.

Paradise is open to all kind hearts.

Flow wine, smile woman, and the universe is consoled.

Many have lived on a pedestal who will never have a statue when dead.

A man's reception depends upon his coat; his dismissal upon the wit he shows.

What divides men is less a difference in ideas than a likeness in pretensions.

Glory is a shroud that posterity often tears from the shoulders of those who wore it when living.

Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting, The parting hour is come! And fast thy soul is fleeting To seek its starry home.

Gaily! gaily! close our ranks! Arm! Advance! Hope of France! Gaily! gaily! closed our ranks! Onward! Onward! Gauls and Franks!

It is better to decide a difference between enemies than friends, for one of our friends will certainly become an enemy and one of our enemies a friend.

Old age doth in sharp pains abound; We are belabored by the gout, Our blindness is a dark profound, Our deafness each one laughs about. Then reason's light with falling ray Doth but a trembling flicker cast. Honor to age, ye children pay! Alas! my fifty years are past!

When in our days Religion is made a political engine, she exposes herself to having her sacred character forgotten. The most tolerant become intolerant towards her. Believers, who believe something else besides what she teaches, retaliate by attacking her in the very sanctuary itself.

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