The Written Word Has This Advantage, That

The World Is So Great And Rich, And Life So Full Of Variety, That You Can Never Lack Occasions For Poems.

He Who Only Tastes His Error Will Long Dwell With It, Will Take Delight In It As In A Singular Felicity; While He Who Drains It To The Dregs Will, If He Be Not Crazy, Find It To Be What It Is.

Moral Epochs Have Their Course As Well As The Seasons. We Can No More Hold Them Fast Than We Can Hold Sun, Moon, And Stars. Our Faults Perpetually Return Upon Us; And Herein Lies The Subtlest Difficulty Of Self-knowledge.

Don't Say That You Want To Give, But Go Ahead And Give! You'll Never Catch Up With A Mere Hope.

Every Beginning Is Cheerful.