Gray Hairs Seem To My Fancy Like

The Purer The Golden Vessel, The More Readily Is It Bent; The Higher Worth Of Woman Is Sooner Lost Than That Of Man.

How Narrow Our Souls Become When Absorbed In Any Present Good Or Ill! It Is Only The Thought Of The Future That Makes Them Great.

There Are So Many Tender And Holy Emotions Flying About In Our Inward World, Which, Like Angels, Can Never Assume The Body Of An Outward Act; So Many Rich And Lovely Flowers Spring Up Which Bear No Seed, That It Is A Happiness Poetry Was Invented, Which Receives Into Its Limbs All These Incorporeal Spirits, And The Perfume Of All These Flowers.

What A Father Says To His Children Is Not Heard By The World, But It Will Be Heard By Posterity.

Sorrows Gather Around Great Souls As Storms Do Around Mountains; But, Like Them, They Break The Storm And Purify The Air Of The Plain Beneath Them.