I Sometimes Think One Of The Great

Some Minds Seem Almost To Create Themselves, Springing Up Under Every Disadvantage And Working Their Solitary But Irresistible Way Through A Thousand Obstacles.

A Tart Temper Never Mellows With Age, And A Sharp Tongue Is The Only Edged Tool That Grows Keener With Constant Use.

He Is The True Enchanter, Whose Spell Operates, Not Upon The Senses, But Upon The Imagination And The Heart.

Surely Happiness Is Reflective, Like The Light Of Heaven.

There Is A Sacredness In Tears