Modesty Is The Conscience Of The Body.

There Are Moments In Life When All We Can Bear Is The Sense That Our Friend Is Near Us; Our Wounds Would Wince At The Touch Of Consoling Words, That Would Reveal The Depths Of Our Pain.

The Human Heart May Find Here And There A Resting-place Short Of The Highest Height Of Affection, But We Seldom Stop In The Steep, Downward Slope Of Hatred.

All Happiness Depends On Courage And Work.

Behind Every Fortune There Is A Crime.

Virtue, Perhaps, Is Nothing More Than Politeness Of Soul.