There Is Nothing In The World So

There Is No Illusion So Permanent As That Which Enables Us To Look Backward With Complacency; There Is No Mental Process So Deceptive As The Comparing Of Recollections With Realities.

The Most Comfortable Characteristic Of The Period [1775-1825], And The One Which Incites Our Deepest Envy, Is The Universal Willingness To Accept A Good Purpose As A Substitute For Good Work.

There Is A Vast Deal Of Make-believe In The Carefully Nurtured Sentiment For Country Life, And The Barefoot Boy, And The Mountain Girl.

Conversation In Its Happiest Development Is A Link, Equally Exquisite And Adequate, Between Mind And Mind, A System By Which Men Approach One Another With Sympathy And Enjoyment, A Field For The Finest Amenities Of Civilization, For The Keenest And Most Intelligent Display Of Social Activity. It Is Also Our Solace, Our Inspiration, And Our Most Rational Pleasure. It Is A Duty We Owe To One Another; It Is Our Common Debt To Humanity.

The Gayety Of Life, Like The Beauty And The Moral Worth Of Life, Is A Saving Grace, Which To Ignore Is Folly, And To Destroy Is Crime. There Is No More Than We Need; There Is Barely Enough To Go Round.