A Letter Is The Most Imperishable Thing

I Would Not, If I Could, Give Up The Memory Of The Joy I Have Had In Books For Any Advantage That Could Be Offered In Other Pursuits Or Occupations. Books Have Been To Me What Gold Is To The Miser, What New Fields Are To The Explorer.

In The Whole Round Of Human Affairs Little Is So Fatal To Peace As Misunderstanding.

Books Have Been To Me What Gold Is To The Miser, What New Fields Are To The Explorer.

At Christmas-tide The Open Hand Scatters Its Bounty O'er Sea And Land, And None Are Left To Grieve Alone, For Love Is Heaven And Claims Its Own.

Theres Nothing Half So Pleasant As Coming Home Again.