I Had Been Seasoned By Adversity, And

If I Hate The Sins, I Love The Sinner, And Would Do Much For His Salvation

How Odd It Is That We So Often Weep For Each Other's Distresses, When We Shed Not A Tear For Our Own!

What The World Stigmatizes As Romantic Is Often More Nearly Allied To The Truth Than Is Commonly Supposed.

Adieu! But Let Me Cherish, Still, The Hope With Which I Cannot Part. Contempt May Wound, And Coldness Chill, But Still It Lingers In My Heart. And Who Can Tell But Heaven, At Last, May Answer All My Thousand Prayers, And Bid The Future Pay The Past With Joy For Anguish, Smiles For Tears?

There Is Always A But In This Imperfect World.