We Are Ourselves Our Happiness.

Perhaps, From An Innate Desire Of Justification, Sorrow Always Exaggerates Itself. Memory Is Quite One Of Job's Friends; And The Past Is Ever Ready To Throw Its Added Darkness On The Present.

Whatever People In General Do Not Understand, They Are Al Ways Prepared To Dislike; The Incomprehensible Is Always The Obnoxious.

It Is Said That Ridicule Is The Test Of Truth: It Is Never Applied, But When We Wish To Deceive Ourselves.

I Think Hearts Are Very Much Like Glasses. If They Do Not Break With The First Ring, They Usually Last A Considerable Time.

I Have A Respect For Family Pride. If It Be A Prejudice, It Is A Prejudice In Its Most Picturesque Shape. But I Hold It Is Connected With Some Of The Noblest Feelings In Our Nature.