Our Necessities Never Equal Our Wants.

I Have Thought That Wild Flowers Might Be The Alphabet Of Angels, — Whereby They Write On Hills And Fields Mysterious Truths, Which It Is Not Given Our Fallen Nature To Understand.

A Single Man Has Not Nearly The Value He Would Have In A State Of Union. He Is An Incomplete Animal. He Resembles The Odd Half Of A Pair Of Scissors.

If Your Head Is Made Of Wax, Don't Walk In The Sun

A Fine Genius In His Own Country Is Like Gold In The Mine.

Neither A Fortress Nor A Maidenhead Will Hold Out Long After They Begin To Parley.