Hopes And Regrets Are The Sweetest Links

The Dream On The Pillow, That Flits With The Day, The Leaf Of The Willow A Breath Wears Away; The Dust On The Blossom, The Spray On The Sea; Ay,--ask Thine Own Bosom-- Are Emblems Of Thee.

My Heart Is Its Own Grave!

My Tears Are Buried In My Heart, Like Cave-locked Fountains Sleeping.

Ignorance, Far More Than Idleness, Is The Mother Of All The Vices; And How Recent Has Been The Admission, That Knowledge Should Be The Portion Of All? The Destinies Of The Future Lie In Judicious Education; An Education That Must Be Universal, To Be Beneficial.

One Of The Greatest Of All Mental Pleasures Is To Have Our Thoughts Often Divined: Ever Entered Into With Sympathy.