Surely Happiness Is Reflective, Like The Light

After All, It Is The Divinity Within That Makes The Divinity Without; And I Have Been More Fascinated By A Woman Of Talent And Intelligence, Though Deficient In Personal Charms, Than I Have Been By The Most Regular Beauty.

The Moan Of The Whip-poor-will From The Hillside; The Boding Cry Of The Tree-toad, That Harbinger Of Storm; The Dreary Hooting Of The Screechowl.

They Who Drink Beer Will Think Beer.

How We Delight To Build Our Recollections Upon Some Basis Of Reality,--a Place, A Country, A Local Habitation! How The Events Of Life, As We Look Back Upon Them, Have Grown Into The Well-remembered Background Of The Places Where They Fell Upon Us! Here Is Some Sunny Garden Or Summer Lane, Beautified And Canonized Forever, With The Flood Of A Great Joy; And Here Are Dim And Silent Places,--rooms Always Shadowed And Dark To Us, Whatever They May Be To Others,--where Distress Or Death Came Once, And Since Then Dwells Forevermore.

Enthusiasts Soon Understand Each Other.