A Boy's Muscles Move Quicker Than His

We Are So Bound Together That No Man Can Labor For Himself Alone. Each Blow He Strikes In His Own Behalf Helps To Mold The Universe.

That Is Just The Way With Memory; Nothing That She Brings To Us Is Complete. She Is A Willful Child; All Her Toys Are Broken. I Remember Tumbling Into A Huge Dust-hole When A Very Small Boy, But I Have Not The Faintest Recollection Of Ever Getting Out Again; And If Memory Were All We Had To Trust To, I Should Be Compelled To Believe I Was There Still.

If He Were A Man Of Strong Mind, It Only Gave Him Fits; But A Person Of Mere Average Intellect It Usually Sent Mad.

When You Forget To Take The Sail At All, Then The Wind Is Constantly In Your Favour Both Ways. But There! This World Is Only A Probation, And Man Was Born To Trouble As The Sparks Fly Upward.

But Who Wants To Be Foretold The Weather? It Is Bad Enough When It Comes, Without Our Having The Misery Of Knowing About It Beforehand.