The Deafest Man Can Hear Praise, And

Absurdities Are Great Or Small In Proportion To Custom Or Insuetude.

Friendships Are The Purer And The More Ardent, The Nearer They Come To The Presence Of God, The Sun Not Only Of Righteousness But Of Love.

Dignity, In Private Men And In Governments, Has Been Little Else Than A Stately And Stiff Perseverance In Oppression; And Spirit, As It Is Called, Little Else Than The Foam Of Hard-mouthed Insolence.

Was Genius Ever Ungrateful? Mere Talents Are Dry Leaves, Tossed Up And Down By Gusts Of Passion, And Scattered And Swept Away; But, Genius Lies On The Bosom Of Memory, And Gratitude At Her Feet.

Every Witticism Is An Inexact Thought; That Which Is Perfectly True Is Imperfectly Witty.