Has It Never Occurred To Us, When

The Happiness Of Life Consists, Like The Day, Not In Single Flashes (of Light), But In One Continuous Mild Serenity. The Most Beautiful Period Of The Heart's Existence Is In This Calm Equable Light, Even Although It Be Only Moonshine Or Twilight. Now The Mind Alone Can Obtain For Us This Heavenly Cheerfulness And Peace.

As Winter Strips The Leaves From Around Us, So That We May See The Distant Regions They Formerly Concealed, So Old Age Takes Away Our Enjoyments Only To Enlarge The Prospect Of The Coming Eternity.

There Are Souls In This World Which Have The Gift Of Finding Joy Everywhere And Of Leaving It Behind Them When They Go.

A Timid Person Is Frightened Before A Danger, A Coward During The Time, And A Courageous Person Afterward.

Art Is Indeed Not The Bread But The Wine Of Life.