Our Cares Are The Mothers, Not Only

The Only Rational Liberty Is That Which Is Born Of Subjection, Reared In The Fear Of God And The Love Of Man.

No Doubt Solitude Is Wholesome, But So Is Abstinence After A Surfeit. The True Life Of Man Is In Society.

I Know Not That There Is Anything In Nature More Soothing To The Mind Than The Contemplation Of The Moon, Sailing, Like Some Planetary Bark, Amidst A Sea Of Bright Azure. The Subject Is Certainly Hackneyed; The Moon Has Been Sung By Poet And Poetaster. Is There Any Marvel That It Should Be So?

I Believe That Economists Put Decimal Points In Their Forecasts To Show They Have A Sense Of Humor.

Ambition Is Frequently The Only Refuge Which Life Has Left To The Denied Or Mortified Affections. We Chide At The Grasping Eye, The Daring Wing, The Soul That Seems To Thirst For Sovereignty Only, And Know Not That The Flight Of This Ambitious Bird Has Been From A Bosom Or Home That Is Filled With Ashes.