Still Are The Thoughts To Memory Dear.

I Envy Thee Not Thy Faith, Which Is Ever In Thy Mouth But Never In Thy Heart Nor In Thy Practice

Whose Lenient Sorrows Find Relief, Whose Joys Are Chastened By Their Grief.

Mellow Nuts Have The Hardest Rind.

God Forgive Me For Having Thought It Possible That A Schoolmaster Could Be Out And Out A Rational Being.

For Deadly Fear Can Time Outgo, And Blanch At Once The Hair.