Our Aspirations Are Our Possibilities.

The Longer We Live The More We Think And The Higher The Value We Put On Friendship And Tenderness Towards Parents And Friends.

A Fly, Sir, May Sting A Stately Horse And Make Him Wince; But, One Is But An Insect, And The Other Is A Horse Still.

Every Human Being Whose Mind Is Not Debauched, Will Be Willing To Give All That He Has To Get Knowledge.

Criticism Is A Study By Which Men Grow Important And Formidable At Very Small Expense. He Whom Nature Has Made Weak, And Idleness Keeps Ignorant, May Yet Support His Vanity By The Name Of A Critic.

Sorrow Is A Kind Of Rust Of The Soul, Which Every New Idea Contributes In Its Passage To Scour Away. It Is The Putrefaction Of Stagnant Life, And Is Remedied By Exercise And Motion.