The Blessings Of Matrimony, Like Those Of

Alas! We Makea Ladder Of Our Thoughts, Where Angels Step,but Sleep Ourselves At The Foot: Our High Resolveslook Down Upon Our Slumbering Acts.

He Who Seeks Pleasure With Reference To Himself, Not Others, Will Ever Find That Pleasure Is Only Another Name For Discontent.

We Need To Suffer, That We May Learn To Pity.

Alas! We Give Our Own Coloring To The Actions Of Others.

Perhaps, From An Innate Desire Of Justification, Sorrow Always Exaggerates Itself. Memory Is Quite One Of Job's Friends; And The Past Is Ever Ready To Throw Its Added Darkness On The Present.