Thou Know'st How Fearless Is My Trust

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

There Is No Existence So Content As That Whose Present Is Engrossed By Employment, And Whose Future Is Filled By Some Strong Hope, The Truth Of Which Is Never Proved. Toil And Illusion Are The Only Secrets To Make Life Tolerable.

There Are Words To Paint The Misery Of Love, But None To Paint Its Happiness.

Charity Is A Calm, Severe Duty; It Must Be Intellectual, To Be Advantageous. It Is A Strange Mistake That It Should Ever Be Considered A Merit; Its Fulfillment Is Only What We Owe To Each Other, And Is A Debt Never Paid To Its Full Extent.

Occupation Is One Great Source Of Enjoyment. No Man, Properly Occupied, Was Ever Miserable.