The Modern Masters Promise Very Little

Allow Me Now To Return To The Cottagers, Whose Story Excited In Me Such Various Feelings Of Indignation, Delight, And Wonder, But Which All Terminated In Additional Love And Reverence For My Protectors (for So I Loved, In An Innocent, Half Painful Self-deceit, To Call Them).

When Falsehood Can Look So Like The Truth, Who Can Assure Themselves Of Certain Happiness?

A Mind Of Moderate Capacity Which Closely Pursues One Study Must Infallibly Arrive At Great Proficiency In That Study.

The Careful Rearer Of The Ductile Human Plant Can Instil His Own Religion, And Surround The Soul By Such A Moral Atmosphere, As Shall Become To Its Latest Day The Air It Breathes.

Nothing Is So Painful To The Human Mind As A Great And Sudden Change. The Sun Might Shine, Or The Clouds Might Lour: But Nothing Could Appear To Me As It Had Done The Day Before.