The Living Are Just The Dead On

All Mothers Are Rich When They Love Their Children. There Are No Poor Mothers, No Ugly Ones, No Old Ones. Their Love Is Always The Most Beautiful Of Joys.

When We Lose One We Love, Our Bitterest Tears Are Called Forth By The Memory Of Hours When We Loved Not Enough.

The Hour Of Justice Does Not Strike On The Dials Of This World.

The Decent Moderation Of Today Will Be The Least Of Human Things Tomorrow. At The Time Of The Spanish Inquisition, The Opinion Of Good Sense And Of The Good Medium Was Certainly That People Ought Not To Burn Too Large A Number Of Heretics; Extreme And Unreasonable Opinion Obviously Demanded That They Should Burn None At All.

Remember That Happiness Is As Contagious As Gloom. It Should Be The First Duty Of Those Who Are Happy To Let Others Know Of Their Gladness.