Docility Is The Observable Half Of Reason.

Life Is Judged With All The Blindness Of Life Itself.

There Is No Dunce Like A Mature Dunce.

A Country Without A Memory Is A Country Of Madmen.

The Difficult Is That Which Can Be Done Immediately; The Impossible That Which Takes A Little Longer.

With You A Part Of Me Hath Passed Away; For In The Peopled Forest Of My Mind A Tree Made Leafless By This Wintry Wind Shall Never Don Again Its Green Array. Chapel And Fireside, Country Road And Bay, Have Something Of Their Friendliness Resigned; Another, If I Would, I Could Not Find, And I Am Grown Much Older In A Day. But Yet I Treasure In My Memory Your Gift Of Charity, And Young Hearts Ease, And The Dear Honour Of Your Amity; For These Once Mine, My Life Is Rich With These. And I Scarce Know Which Part May Greater Be,-- What I Keep Of You, Or You Rob From Me.