Probably Every New And Eagerly Expected Garment

We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears.

Dreams Are The Bright Creatures Of Poem And Legend, Who Sport On Earth In The Night Season, And Melt Away In The First Beam Of The Sun, Which Lights Grim Care And Stern Reality On Their Daily Pilgrimage Through The World.

There Is Prodigious Strength In Sorrow And Despair.

O, If The Deeds Of Human Creatures Could Be Traced To Their Source, How Beautiful Would Even Death Appear; For How Much Charity, Mercy, And Purified Affection Would Be Seen To Have Their Growth In Dusty Graves!

We All Draw A Little And Compose A Little, And None Of Us Have Any Idea Of Time Or Money.