If You Are Ever At A Loss

It Is A Delicious Moment, Certainly, That Of Being Well Nestled In Bed, And Feeling That You Shall Drop Gently To Sleep. The Good Is To Come, Not Past; The Limbs Have Just Been Tired Enough To Render The Remaining In One Posture Delightful; The Labour Of The Day Is Gone

Music Is The Medicine Of The Breaking Heart.

One Can Love Any Man That Is Generous.

For The Qualities Of Sheer Wit And Humor, Swift Had No Superior, Ancient Or Modern.

Night's Deepest Gloom Is But A Calm; That Soothes The Weary Mind: The Labored Days Restoring Balm; The Comfort Of Mankind.