Every Library Should Try To Be Complete

For Nothing Burns With Such Amazing Speed, As The Dry Sticks Of A Religious Creed.

What We Most Want To Ask Of Our Maker Is An Unfolding Of The Divine Purpose In Putting Human Beings Into Conditions In Which Such Numbers Of Them Would Be Sure To Go Wrong.

Sweet Is The Scene Where Genial Friendship Plays The Pleasing Game Of Interchanging Praise.

Our Brains Are Seventy-year Clocks. The Angel Of Life Winds Them Up Once For All, Then Closes The Case, And Gives The Key Into The Hand Of The Angel Of The Resurrection.

Fresh Air Is Good If You Do Not Take Too Much Of It; Most Of The Achievements And Pleasures Of Life Are In Bad Air.