Weakness Ineffectually Seeks To Disguise Itself,--like A

At The Best, Sarcasms, Bitter Irony, Scathing Wit, Are A Sort Of Swordplay Of The Mind. You Pink Your Adversary, And He Is Forthwith Dead; And Then You Deserve To Be Hung For It.

Satire Is An Abuse Of Wit. It Corrects Few Evils.

Many Children, Many Cares; No Children, No Felicity.

Nothing Is So Fragile As Thought In Its Infancy; An Interruption Breaks It: Nothing Is So Powerful, Even To Overturning Empires, When It Reaches Its Maturity.

To Cultivate A Garden Is. . . To Go Hand In Hand With Nature In Some Of Her Most Beautiful Processes.