Happiness Is Like A Butterfly.

There Is Evil In Every Human Heart, Which May Remain Latent, Perhaps, Through The Whole Of Life; But Circumstances May Rouse It To Activity.

What Is There So Ponderous In Evil, That A Thumb's Bigness Of It Should Outweigh The Mass Of Things Not Evil, Which Were Heaped Into The Other Scale!

There Is No Such Thing In Man's Nature As A Settled And Full Resolve Either For Good Or Evil, Except At The Very Moment Of Execution.

No Fountain So Small But That Heaven May Be Imaged In Its Bosom.

The Fiend In His Own Shape Is Less Hideous Than When He Rages In The Breast Of Men.