Man Has Here Two And A Half

Every Man Regards His Own Life As The New Year's Eve Of Time.

In Science The New Is An Advance; But In Morals, As Contradicting Our Inner Ideals And Historic Idols, It Is Ever A Retrogression.

A Woman Who Could Always Love Would Never Grow Old; And The Love Of Mother And Wife Would Often Give Or Preserve Many Charms If It Were Not Too Often Combined With Parental And Conjugal Anger. There Remains In The Face Of Women Who Are Naturally Serene And Peaceful, And Of Those Rendered So By Religion, An After-spring, And Later An After-summer, The Reflex Of Their Most Beautiful Bloom.

People Will Not Bear It When Advice Is Violently Given, Even If It Is Well Founded. Hearts Are Flowers; They Remain Open To The Softly Falling Dew, But Shut Up In The Violent Downpour Of Rain.

Joys Are Our Wings, Sorrows Our Spurs.