Time Makes Ancient Good Uncouth.

Attention Is The Stuff That Memory Is Made Of, And Memory Is Accumulated Genius.

No Price Is Set On The Lavish Summer; June May Be Had By The Poorest Comer.

The Greatest Homage We Can Pay To Truth, Is To Use It.

His Heart Kep' Goin' Pity-pat, But Hern Went Pity-zekle.

Now The Heart Is So Full That A Drop Overfills It, We Are Happy Now Because God So Wills It; No Matter How Barren The Past May Have Been, 't Is Enough For Us Now That The Leaves Are Green; We Sit In The Warm Shade And Feel Right Well How The Sap Creeps Up And The Blossoms Swell... The Breeze Comes Whispering In Our Ear, That Dandelions Are Blossoming Near... Every Thing Is Upward Striving; 't Is As Easy Now For The Heart To Be True As For Grass To Be Green Or Skies To Be Blue, - 't Is The Natural Way Of Living.