Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human

Eternity Is A Depth Which No Geometry Can Measure, No Arithmetic Calculate, No Imagination Conceive, No Rhetoric Describe.

It May Be In Morals As It Is In Optics, The Eye And The Object May Come Too Close To Each Other, To Answer The End Of Vision. There Are Certain Faults Which Press Too Near Our Self-love To Be Even Perceptible To Us.

He Who Finds He Has Wasted A Shilling May By Diligence Hope To Fetch It Up Again; But No Repentance Or Industry Can Ever Bring Back One Wasted Hour.

The Modes Of Speech Are Scarcely More Variable Than The Modes Of Silence.

To Those Who Know Thee Not, No Words Can Paint! And Those Who Know Thee, Know All Words Are Faint!