The Darkness Of Death Is Like The

Individuality Is To Be Preserved And Respected Everywhere, As The Root Of Everything Good.

As Winter Strips The Leaves From Around Us, So That We May See The Distant Regions They Formerly Concealed, So Old Age Takes Away Our Enjoyments Only To Enlarge The Prospect Of The Coming Eternity.

Gray Hairs Seem To My Fancy Like The Soft Light Of The Moon, Silvering Over The Evening Of Life.

For No One Does Life Drag More Disagreeably Than For Those Who Try To Speed It Up.

Never Part Without Loving Words To Think Of During Your Absence. It May Be That You Will Not Meet Again In This Life.