Sympathizing And Selfish People Are Alike, Both

The Perfection Of Conversational Intercourse Is When The Breeding Of High Life Is Animated By The Fervor Of Genius.

O Scaly, Slippery, Wet, Swift, Staring Wights, What Is 't Ye Do? What Life Lead? Eh, Dull Goggles? How Do Ye Vary Your Vile Days And Nights? How Pass Your Sundays? Are Ye Still But Joggles In Ceaseless Wash? Still Nought But Gapes And Bites, And Drinks, And Stares, Diversified With Boggles.

Music Is The Medicine Of The Breaking Heart.

We Must Regard All Matter As An Intrusted Secret Which We Believe The Person Concerned Would Wish To Be Considered As Such. Nay, Further Still, We Must Consider All Circumstances As Secrets Intrusted Which Would Bring Scandal Upon Another If Told.

The Last Excessive Feelings Of Delight Are Always Grave.