It Must Be So, Plato, Thou Reason'st

Certain Is It That There Is No Kind Of Affection So Purely Angelic As Of A Father To A Daughter. In Love To Our Wives There Is Desire; To Our Sons, Ambition, But To Our Daughters There Is Something Which There Are No Words To Express.

Wine Heightens Indifference Into Love, Love Into Jealousy, And Jealousy Into Madness. It Often Turns The Good-natured Man Into An Idiot, And The Choleric Into An Assassin. It Gives Bitterness To Resentment, It Makes Vanity Insupportable, And Displays Every Little Spot Of The Soul In Its Utmost Deformity.

There Is No Passion That Steals Into The Heart More Imperceptibly And Covers Itself Under More Disguises Than Pride.

Education Is A Companion Which No Misfortune Can Depress, No Crime Can Destroy, No Enemy Can Alienate, No Despotism Can Enslave. At Home, A Friend, Abroad, An Introduction, In Solitude A Solace And In Society An Ornament. It Chastens Vice, It Guides Virtue, It Gives At Once Grace And Government To Genius. Without It, What Is Man? A Splendid Slave, A Reasoning Savage.

The Talent Of Turning Men Into Ridicule, And Exposing To Laughter Those One Converses With, Is The Qualification Of Little Ungenerous Tempers.