Colors Are The Smiles Of Nature.

The Most Fascinating Women Are Those That Can Most Enrich The Every Day Moments Of Existence. In A Particular And Attaching Sense, They Are Those That Can Partake Our Pleasures And Our Pains In The Liveliest And Most Devoted Manner. Beauty Is Little Without This; With It She Is Triumphant.

Some Tears Belong To Us Because We Are Unfortunate; Others, Because We Are Humane; Many, Because We Are Mortal. But Most Are Caused By Our Being Unwise. It Is These Last Only That Of Necessity Produce More.

Nature, At All Events, Humanly Speaking, Is Manifestly Very Fond Of Color; For She Has Made Nothing Without It. Her Skies Are Blue; Her Fields, Green; Her Waters Vary With Her Skies; Her Animals, Vegetables, Minerals, Are All Colored. She Paints A Great Any Of Them In Apparently Superfluous Hues, As If To Show The Dullest Eye How She Loves Color.

Little Eyes Must Be Good-tempered Or They Are Ruined. They Have No Other Resource. But This Will Beautify Them Enough. They Are Made For Laughing, And, Should Do Their Duty.

"books ... Books, ..." He Exclaims. It Is Those That Teach Us To Refine On Our Pleasures When Young, And Which, Having So Taught Us, Enable Us To Recall Them With Satisfaction When Old.