Nothing So Difficult As A Beginning In

The Truly Brave Are Soft Of Heart And Eyes, And Feel For What Their Duty Bids Them Do.

But At Sixteen The Conscience Rarely Gnaws So Much, As When We Call Our Old Debts In At Sixty Years, And Draw The Accounts Of Evil, And Find A Deuced Balance With The Devil.

Armenian Is The Language To Speak With God.

My Slumbers--if I Slumber--are Not Sleep, But A Continuance Of Enduring Thought, Which Then I Can Resist Not: In My Heart There Is A Vigil, And These Eyes But Close To Look Within; And Yet I Live, And Bear The Aspect And The Form Of Breathing Men.

The Reading Or Non-reading A Book Will Never Keep Down A Single Petticoat.