He Who Has Once Taken To Drink

I Am Persuaded That There Is No Affection Of The Human Heart More Exquisitely Pure, Than That Which Is Felt By A Grateful Son Towards A Mother.

Oh! The Joy Of Young Ideas Painted On The Mind, In The Warm Glowing Colors Fancy Spreads On Objects Not Yet Known, When All Is New, And All Is Lovely.

We Are Apt To Mistake Our Vocation By Looking Out Of The Way For Occasions To Exercise Great And Rare Virtues, And By Stepping Over The Ordinary Ones That Lie Directly In The Road Before Us.

It Is Not So Important To Know Everything As To Know The Exact Value Of Everything, To Appreciate What We Learn And To Arrange What We Know.

How Short Is Human Life! The Very Breath Which Frames My Words Accelerates My Death.