The Birth Of A Child Is The

The Only True Source Of Politeness Is Consideration.

Vanity May Be Likened To The Smooth-skinned And Velvet-footed Mouse, Nibbling About Forever In Expectation Of A Crumb; While Self-esteem Is Too Apt To Take The Likeness Of The Huge Butcher's Dog, Who Carries Off Your Steaks, And Growls At You As Be Goes.

Philosophy Has Its Bugbears, As Well As Superstition.

Solitude Bears The Same Relation To The Mind That Sleep Does To The Body. It Affords It The Necessary Opportunities For Repose And Recovery.

Ambition Is Frequently The Only Refuge Which Life Has Left To The Denied Or Mortified Affections. We Chide At The Grasping Eye, The Daring Wing, The Soul That Seems To Thirst For Sovereignty Only, And Know Not That The Flight Of This Ambitious Bird Has Been From A Bosom Or Home That Is Filled With Ashes.