Every Stage Of Education Begins With Childhood.

In A Work Of Art, Chaos Must Shimmer Through The Veil Of Order.

Friendship, Love, And Piety Ought To Be Handled With A Sort Of Mysterious Secrecy; They Ought To Be Spoken Of Only In The Rare Moments Of Perfect Confidence, To Be Mutually Understood In Silence. Many Things Are Too Delicate To Be Thought; Many More, To Be Spoken.

In Cheerful Souls There Is No Wit. Wit Shows A Disturbance Of The Equipoise.

Where Children Are, There Is The Golden Age.

It Is Certain My Belief Gains Quite Infinitely The Very Moment I Can Convince Another Mind Thereof