The Last Excessive Feelings Of Delight Are

I Entrench Myself In My Books Equally Against Sorrow And The Weather.

Hair Is The Most Delicate And Lasting Of Our Materials, And Survives Us, Like Love. It Is So Light, So Gentle; So Escaping From The Idea Of Death, That, With A Lock Of Hair Belonging To A Child Or Friend, We May Almost Look Up To Heaven And Compare Notes With The Angelic Nature,--may Almost Say, "i Have A Piece Of Thee Here Not Unworthy Of Thy Being Now.

If You Are Melancholy For The First Time, You Will Find, Upon A Little Inquiry, That Others Have Been Melancholy Many Times, And Yet Are Cheerful Now.

When Goethe Says That In Every Human Condition Foes Lie In Wait For Us, "invincible Only By Cheerfulness And Equanimity," He Does Not Mean That We Can At All Times Be Really Cheerful, Or At A Moment's Notice; But That The Endeavor To Look At The Better Side Of Things Will Produce The Habit, And That This Habit Is The Surest Safeguard Against The Danger Of Sudden Evils.

With Spots Of Sunny Openings, And With Nooks To Lie And Read In, Sloping Into Brooks.