Ambition's Cradle Oftenest Is Its Grave

The Pleasant Books, That Silently Among Our Household Treasures Take Familiar Places, And Are To Us As If A Living Tongue Spake From The Printed Leaves Or Pictured Faces!

The Student Has His Rome, His Florence, His Whole Glowing Italy, Within The Four Walls Of His Library. He Has In His Books The Ruins Of An Antique World And The Glories Of A Modern One.

Art Is The Child Of Nature.

The Holiest Of All Holidays Are Those Kept By Ourselves In Silence And Apart; The Secret Anniversaries Of The Heart, When The Full River Of Feeling Overflows;- The Happy Days Unclouded To Their Close; The Sudden Joys That Our Of Darkness Start As Flames From Ashes; Swift Desires That Dart Like Swallows Singing Down Each Wind That Blows!

Time, Like A Preacher In The Days Of The Puritans, Turned The Hour-glass On His High Pulpit, The Church Belfry.