It Is No Great Misfortune To Oblige

Thou Art A Woman, And That Is Saying The Best And Worst Of Thee.

Blessings Star Forth Forever; But A Curse Is Like A Cloud, It Passes.

We Live In Deeds, Not Years; In Thoughts, Not Breaths; In Feelings, Not In Figures On A Dial.

It Is Sad To See The Light Of Beauty Wane Away, Know Eyes Are Dimming, Bosoms Shrivelling, Feet Losing Their Springs, And Limbs Their Lily Roundness; But It Is Worse To Feel The Heart-spring Gone, To Lose Hope, Care Not For The Coming Thing, And Feel All Things Go To Decay Within Us.

None But The Brave And Beautiful Can Love.