Men Of Dissolute Lives Have Little Incentive

There Is No Such Thing As White Lies; A Lie Is As Black As A Coalpit, And Twice As Foul.

As Flowers Carry Dewdrops, Trembling On The Edges Of The Petals, And Ready To Fall At The First Waft Of Wind Or Brush Of Bird, So The Heart Should Carry Its Beaded Words Of Thanksgiving; And At The First Breath Of Heavenly Flavor, Let Down The Shower, Perfumed With The Heart's Gratitude.

A Mother Has, Perhaps, The Hardest Earthly Lot; And Yet No Mother Worthy Of The Name Ever Gave Herself Thoroughly For Her Child Who Did Not Feel That, After All, She Reaped What She Had Sown.

Very Few Men Acquire Wealth In Such A Manner As To Receive Pleasure From It. Just As Long As There Is The Enthusiasm Of The Chase They Enjoy It; But When They Begin To Look Around, And Think Of Settling Down, They Find That That Part By Which Joy Enters Is Dead In Them. They Have Spent Their Lives In Heaping Up Colossal Piles Of Treasure, Which Stand, At The End, Like The Pyramids In The Desert Sands, Holding Only The Dust Of Kings.

Little Lies Are Very Dangerous, Because There Are So Many Of Them, And Because Each One Of Them Scours Upon The Character As Diamond-pointed.