As Turning The Logs Will Make A

The Young May Die, But The Old Must!

The Greatest Grace Of A Gift, Perhaps, Is That It Anticipates And Admits Of No Return.

The Everyday Cares And Duties, Which Men Call Drudgery, Are The Weights And Counterpoises Of The Clock Of Time, Giving Its Pendulum A True Vibration And Its Hands A Regular Motion; And When They Cease To Hang Upon Its Wheels, The Pendulum No Longer Swings, The Hands No Longer Move The Clock Stands Still.

We Often Excuse Our Own Want Of Philanthropy By Giving The Name Of Fanaticism To The More Ardent Zeal Of Others.

If I Am Not Worth The Wooing, I Surely Am Not Worth The Winning!