No Heroine Can Create A Hero Through

There Are So Many Tender And Holy Emotions Flying About In Our Inward World, Which, Like Angels, Can Never Assume The Body Of An Outward Act; So Many Rich And Lovely Flowers Spring Up Which Bear No Seed, That It Is A Happiness Poetry Was Invented, Which Receives Into Its Limbs All These Incorporeal Spirits, And The Perfume Of All These Flowers.

Each Departed Friend Is A Magnet That Attracts Us To The Next World.

Our Birthdays Are Feathers In The Broad Wing Of Time.

If Self-knowledge Is The Road To Virtue, So Is Virtue Still More The Road To Self-knowledge.

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.