Oh, What A World Full Of Pain

Let Us Not Wonder If Something Happens Which Never Was Before, Or If Something Doth Not Appear Among Us With Which The Ancients Were Acquainted.

Lysander, When Dionysius Sent Him Two Gowns, And Bade Him Choose Which He Would Carry To His Daughter, Said, "she Can Choose Best," And So Took Both Away With Him.

When A Man's Eyes Are Sore His Friends Do Not Let Him Finger Them, However Much He Wishes To, Nor Do They Themselves Touch The Inflammation: But A Man Sunk In Grief Suffers Every Chance Comer To Stir And Augment His Affliction Like A Running Sore; And By Reason Of The Fingering And Consequent Irritation It Hardens Into A Serious And Intractable Evil.

For, In The Language Of Heraclitus, The Virtuous Soul Is Pure And Unmixed Light, Springing From The Body As A Flash Of Lightning Darts From The Cloud. But The Soul That Is Carnal And Immersed In Sense, Like A Heavy And Dank Vapor, Can With Difficulty Be Kindled, And Caused To Raise Its Eyes Heavenward.

Nothing Is Cheap Which Is Superfluous, For What One Does Not Need, Is Dear At A Penny.