It Is Easy To Flatter; It Is

Nothing Is More Beautiful Than Cheerfulness In An Old Face.

There Are So Many Tender And Holy Emotions Flying About In Our Inward World, Which, Like Angels, Can Never Assume The Body Of An Outward Act; So Many Rich And Lovely Flowers Spring Up Which Bear No Seed, That It Is A Happiness Poetry Was Invented, Which Receives Into Its Limbs All These Incorporeal Spirits, And The Perfume Of All These Flowers.

Art Is Indeed Not The Bread But The Wine Of Life.

Woman And Men Of Retiring Timidity Are Cowardly Only In Dangers Which Affect Themselves, But The First To Rescue When Others Are In Danger.

Joys Are Our Wings, Sorrows Our Spurs.