There Seems A Life In Hair, Though

A Dog Can Have A Friend; He Has Affections And Character, He Can Enjoy Equally The Field And The Fireside; He Dreams, He Caresses, He Propitiates; He Offends, And Is Pardoned; He Stands By You In Adversity; He Is A Good Fellow.

Tears Hinder Sorrow From Becoming Despair.

Nature, At All Events, Humanly Speaking, Is Manifestly Very Fond Of Color; For She Has Made Nothing Without It. Her Skies Are Blue; Her Fields, Green; Her Waters Vary With Her Skies; Her Animals, Vegetables, Minerals, Are All Colored. She Paints A Great Any Of Them In Apparently Superfluous Hues, As If To Show The Dullest Eye How She Loves Color.

Poetry Is The Breath Of Beauty.

Sympathizing And Selfish People Are Alike, Both Given To Tears.