But Soon, I Shall Die, And What

Our Feelings Probably Are Not Less Strong At Fifty Than They Were Ten Or Fifteen Years Before; But They Have Changed Their Objects, And Dwell On Far Different Prospects. At Five-and-thirty A Man Thinks Of What His Own Existence Is; When The Maturity Of Age Has Grown Into Its Autumn, He Is Wrapt Up In That Of Others. The Loss Of Wife Or Child Then Becomes More Deplorable, As Being Impossible To Repair; For No Fresh Connection Can Give Us Back The Companion Of Our Earlier Years, Nor A "new-sprung Race" Compensate For That, Whose Career We Hoped To See Run.

But Her's Was The Misery Of Innocence, Which, Like A Cloud That Passes Over The Fair Moon, For A While Hides, But Cannot Tarnish Its Brightness.

At The Age Of Twenty Six I Am In The Condition Of An Aged Person - All My Old Friends Are Gone... & My Heart Fails When I Think By How Few Ties I Hold To The World.

If The Study To Which You Apply Yourself Has A Tendency To Weaken Your Affections And To Destroy Your Taste For Those Simple Pleasures In Which No Alloy Can Possibly Mix, Then That Study Is Certainly Unlawful, That Is To Say, Not Befitting The Human Mind.

There Is Love In Me The Likes Of Which You've Never Seen. There Is Rage In Me The Likes Of Which Should Never Escape. If I Am Not Satisfied Int He One, I Will Indulge The Other.