It Is Not Designed That The Road

The Platform Or The Altar Of Love May Be Analyzed And Explained; It Is Constructed Of Virtue, Beauty, And Affection. Such Is The Pyre, Such Is The Offering; But The Ethereal Spark Must Come From Heaven, That Lights The Sacrifice.

Happiness Is A Sunbeam Which May Pass Through A Thousand Bosoms Without Losing A Particle Of Its Original Ray; Nay, When It Strikes On A Kindred Heart, Like The Converged Light On A Mirror, It Reflects Itself With Redoubled Brightness. It Is Not Perfected Till It Is Shared.

He That Easily Believes Rumors Has The Principle Within Him To Augment Rumors. It Is Strange To See The Ravenous Appetite With Which Some Devourers Of Character And Happiness Fix Upon The Sides Of The Innocent And Unfortunate.

The Pure In Heart Are Slow To Credit Calumnies, Because They Hardly Comprehend What Motives Can Be Inducements To The Alleged Crimes.

The Perfection Of Outward Loveliness Is The Soul Shining Through Its Crystalline Covering.