Nature Does Nothing Without Purpose Or Uselessly.

Love, Anger, Pride And Avarice All Visibly Move In Those Little Orbs.

It Is Certain That There Is No Other Passion Which Does Produce Such Contrary Effects In So Great A Degree. But This May Be Said For Love, That If You Strike It Out Of The Soul, Life Would Be Insipid, And Our Being But Half Animated.

Music, The Greatest Good That Mortals Know, And All Of Heaven We Have Below. Music Can Noble Hints Impart, Engender Fury, Kindle Love; 40 With Unsuspected Eloquence Can Move, And Manage All The Man With Secret Art. When Orpheus Strikes The Trembling Lyre The Streams Stand Still, The Stones Admire; The Listening Savages Advance, The World And Lamb Around Him Trip The Bears In Aukward Measures Leap, And Tigers Mingle In The Dance The Moving Woods Attended As He Played And Rhodope Was Left Without A Shade.

Justice Is An Unassailable Fortress, Built On The Brow Of A Mountain Which Cannot Be Overthrown By The Violence Of Torrents, Nor Demolished By The Force Of Armies.

There Is A Sort Of Economy In Providence That One Shall Excel Where Another Is Defective, In Order To Make Men More Useful To Each Other, And Mix Them In Society.