When Love's Well-timed 'tis Not A Fault

Charity Is A Virtue Of The Heart, And Not Of The Hands.

I'm Weary Of Conjectures, - This Must End 'em. Thus Am I Doubly Armed: My Death And Life, My Bane And Antidote, Are Both Before Me: This In A Moment Brings Me To An End; But This Informs Me I Shall Never Die. The Soul, Secured In Her Existence, Smiles At The Drawn Dagger, And Defies Its Point. The Stars Shall Fade Away, The Sun Himself Grow Dim With Age, And Nature Sink In Years; But Thou Shalt Flourish In Immortal Youth, Unhurt Amidst The War Of Elements, The Wrecks Of Matter, And The Crush Of Worlds.

It Must Be A Prospect Pleasing To God Himself To See His Creation Forever Beautifying In His Eyes, And Drawing Nearer Him By Greater Degrees Of Resemblance.

Tradition Is An Important Help To History, But Its Statements Should Be Carefully Scrutinized Before We Rely On Them.

When I Read The Epitaphs Of The Beautiful, Every Inordinate Desire Goes Out; When I Meet With The Grief Of Parents Upon A Tombstone, My Heart Melts With Compassion; When I See The Tomb Of The Parents Themselves, I Consider The Vanity Of Grieving For Those Whom We Must Quickly Follow: When I See Kings Lying By Those Who Deposed Them, When I Consider Rival Wits Placed Side By Side, Or The Holy Men That Divided The World With Their Contests And Disputes, I Reflect With Sorrow And Astonishment On The Little Competitions, Factions, And Debates Of Mankind.