True Love Is The Ripe Fruit Of

Music Is The Literature Of The Heart; It Commences Where Speech Ends.

Joy Is A Flame Which Association Alone Can Keep Alive, And Which Goes Out Unless Communicated.

Modesty And Dew Love The Shade.

Life Is Too Short To Spare An Hour Of It In The Indulgence Of This Evil Passion.

Esteem Incites Friendship, But Not Love; The Former Is The Twin Brother Of Reverence; The Latter Is The Child Of Equality.