There Is A Majestic Grandeur In Tranquillity.

Christmas Is A Season For Kindling The Fire For Hospitality In The Hall, The Genial Flame Of Charity In The Heart.

A Woman's Whole Life Is A History Of The Affections. The Heart Is Her World: It Is There Her Ambition Strives For Empire; It Is There Her Avarice Seeks For Hidden Treasures. She Sends Forth Her Sympathies On Adventure; She Embarks Her Whole Soul On The Traffic Of Affection; And If Shipwrecked, Her Case Is Hopeless — For It Is A Bankruptcy Of The Heart.

No Man Is So Methodical As A Complete Idler, And None So Scrupulous In Measuring Out His Time As He Whose Time Is Worth Nothing.

The Sorrow For The Dead Is The Only Sorrow From Which We Refuse To Be Divorced. Every Other Wound We Seek To Heal - Every Other Affliction To Forget: But This Wound We Consider It A Duty To Keep Open - This Affliction We Cherish And Brood Over In Solitude.

A Barking Dog Is Often More Useful Than A Sleeping Lion.