He Who Destroys A Good Book Kills

The Timely Dew Of Sleep.

A Good Principle Not Rightly Understood May Prove As Hurtful As A Bad.

My Heart Contains Of Good, Wise, Just, The Perfect Shape.

For The Air Of Youth, Hopeful And Cheerful, In Thy Blood Will Reign A Melancholy Damp Of Cold And Dry To Weigh Thy Spirits Down, And Last Consume The Balm Of Life.

Wherefore Did He [god] Create Passions Within Us, Pleasures Round About Us, But That These Rightly Tempered Are The Very Ingredients Of Virtue?