There Is Perfect Love In Heaven!

Keep Guard Over Your Eyes And Ears As The Inlets Of Your Heart, And Over Your Lips As The Outlets, Lest They Betray You In A Moment Of Unwariness.

Preserve Me From Such Cordiality! It Is Like Handling Briar-roses And May-blossoms - Bright Enough To The Eye, And Outwardly Soft To The Touch, But You Know There Are Thorns Beneath, And Every Now And Then You Feel Them Too; And Perhaps Resent The Injury By Crushing Them In Till You Have Destroyed Their Power, Though Somewhat To The Detriment Of Your Own Fingers.

There Is Always A But In This Imperfect World.

What The World Stigmatizes As Romantic Is Often More Nearly Allied To The Truth Than Is Commonly Supposed.

All True Histories Contain Instruction; Though, In Some, The Treasure May Be Hard To Find, And When Found, So Trivial In Quantity, That The Dry, Shriveled Kernel Scarcely Compensates For The Trouble Of Cracking The Nut.