Joy Descends Gently Upon Us Like The

The Burden Of Suffering Seems A Tombstone Hung About Our Necks, While In Reality It Is Only The Weight Which Is Necessary To Keep Down The Diver While He Is Hunting For Pearls.

What Cicero Said Of Men-that They Are Like Wines, Age Souring The Bad, And Bettering The Good-we Can Say Of Misfortune, That It Has The Same Effect Upon Them.

God Is An Unutterable Sigh, Planted In The Depths Of The Soul.

Passion Makes The Best Observations And The Sorriest Conclusions.

Men, Like Bullets, Go Farthest When They Are Smoothest.