Summer Has Set In With Its Usual

To Be Beloved Is All I Need, And Whom I Love, I Love Indeed.

A Bitter And Perplexed "what Shall I Do?" Is Worse To Man Than Worse Necessity.

The Happiness Of Life Is Made Up Of Minute Fractions.

People Of Humor Are Always In Some Degree People Of Genius.

Where Virtue Is, Sensibility Is The Ornament And Becoming Attire Of Virtue. On Certain Occasions It May Almost Be Said To Become Virtue. But Sensibility And All The Amiable Qualities May Likewise Become, And Too Often Have Become, The Panders Of Vice And The Instruments Of Seduction.