Here Is Neither Want Of Appetite Nor

Breathes There The Man With Soul So Dead, Who Never To Himself Hath Said, This Is My Own, My Native Land.

Ambition Is No Cure For Love!

Literature Is A Great Staff, But A Very Sorry Crutch.

Many Of Our Cares Are But A Morbid Way Of Looking At Our Privileges

For He That Does Good, Having The Unlimited Power To Do Evil, Deserves Praise Not Only For The Good Which He Performs, But For The Evil Which He Forbears.