Joys Are Our Wings, Sorrows Our Spurs.

God Is An Unutterable Sigh, Planted In The Depths Of The Soul.

Memory, Wit, Fancy, Acuteness, Cannot Grow Young Again In Old Age, But The Heart Can.

Age Doesn't Matter, Unless Your Cheese.

Joy Descends Gently Upon Us Like The Evening Dew, And Does Not Patter Down Like A Hailstorm.

In Women Everything Is Heart, Even The Head.