To Be Strong Is To Be Happy!

Read From Some Humbler Poet, Whose Songs Gushed From His Heart, As Showers From The Clouds Of Summer, Or Tears From The Eyelids Start.

There Are Two Angels That Attend Unseen Each One Of Us, And In Great Books Record Our Good And Evil Deeds. He Who Writes Down The Good Ones, After Every Action Closes His Volume, And Ascends With It To God. The Other Keeps His Dreadful Day-book Open Till Sunset, That We May Repent; Which Doing, The Record Of The Action Fades Away, And Leaves A Line Of White Across The Page. Now If My Act Be Good, As I Believe It, It Cannot Be Recalled. It Is Already Sealed Up In Heaven, As A Good Deed Accomplished. The Rest Is Yours.

A Coquette Is A Young Lady Of More Beauty Than Sense, More Accomplishments Than Learning, More Charms Not Person Than Graces Of Mind, More Admirers Than Friends, Mole Fools Than Wise Men For Attendants.

If The Mind, That Rules The Body, Ever So Far Forgets Itself As To Trample On Its Slave, The Slave Is Never Generous Enough To Forgive The Injury, But Will Rise And Smite The Oppressor.

Thinking The Deed, And Not The Creed, Would Help Us In Our Utmost Need.