I am past scorching; not easily can’st thou scorch a scar.

Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins?

The sweetest joys of life grow in the very jaws of its perils.

We should, if possible, prove a teacher to posterity, instead of being the pupil of by-gone generations. More shall come after us than have gone before; the world is not yet middle-aged.

A chaplain is the minister of the Prince of Peace serving the host of the God of War--Mars. As such, he is as incongruous as a musket would be on the altar at Christmas. Why, then, is he there? Because he indirectly subserves the purpose attested by the cannon; because too he lends the sanction of the religion of the meek to that which practically is the abrogation of everything but brute Force.

Beware the People weeping When they bare the iron hand.

The eyes are the gateway to the soul.