There Are Strings In The Human Heart

Nature Gives To Every Time And Season Some Beauties Of Its Own.

Have A Heart That Never Hardens, And A Temper That Never Tires, And A Touch That Never Hurts.

"my Good Fellow," Retorted Mr. Boffin, "you Have My Word; And How You Can Have That, Without My Honour Too, I Don't Know. I've Sorted A Lot Of Dust In My Time, But I Never Knew The Two Things Go Into Separate Heaps."

A Mob Is Usually A Creature Of Very Mysterious Existence, Particularly In A Large City. Where It Comes From, Or Whither It Goes, Few Men Can Tell. Assembling And Dispersing With Equal Suddenness, It Is As Difficult To Follow To Its Various Sources As The Sea Itself; Nor Does The Parallel Stop Here, For The Ocean Is Not More Fickle And Uncertain, More Terrible When Roused, More Unreasonable Or More Cruel.

Shall We Speak Of The Inspiration Of A Poet Or A Priest, And Not Of The Heart Impelled By Love And Self-devotion To The Lowliest Work In The Lowliest Way Of Life?