To Be Happy, A Man Must Love

Above All Do Not Ask That Justice Be Just: It Is Just, Because It Is Justice. The Idea Of A Just Justice Could Have Originated Only In The Brain Of An Anarchist.

Mud, Raised By Hurricanes, Wells Up In The Noblest And Purest Of Hearts.

Virtue, Perhaps, Is Nothing More Than Politeness Of Soul.

By Resorting To Self-resignation, The Unfortunate Consummate.

A Sick Man, Surrounded By Those Who Love Him, Nursed By Those Who Wish Earnestly That He Should Live, Will Recover (all Other Things Being Equal), When Another Patient Tended By Hirelings Will Die. Doctors Decline To See Unconscious Magnestism In This Phenomenon; For Them It Is The Result Of Intelligent Nursing, Of Exact Obedience To Their Orders; But Many A Mother Knows The Virtue Of Such Ardent Projections Of Strong, Unceasing Prayer.