Heaven Know Its Time; The Bullet Has

Ambition Is No Cure For Love!

Perhaps The Perusal Of Such Works May, Without Injustice, Be Compared With The Use Of Opiates, Baneful, When Habitually And Constantly Resorted To, But Of Most Blessed Power In Those Moments Of Pain And Of Langour, When The Whole Head Is Sore, And The Whole Heart Sick. If Those Who Rail Indiscriminately At This Species Of Composition, Were To Consider The Quantity Of Actual Pleasure It Produces, And The Much Greater Proportion Of Real Sorrow And Distress Which It Alleviates, Their Philanthropy Ought To Moderate Their Critical Pride, Or Religious Intolerance.

What A Strange Scene If The Surge Of Conversation Could Suddenly Ebb Like The Tide, And Show Us The Real State Of People's Minds.

He That Would Soothe Sorrow Must Not Argue On The Vanity Of The Most Deceitful Hopes.

If You Once Turn On Your Side After The Hour At Which You Ought To Rise, It Is All Over. Bolt Up At Once.