We Must Bear What Heaven Sends.

Stubbornness Is Not Firmness.

In A Narrow Circle The Mind Grows Narrow. The More One Expands, The Larger Their Aims.

Man Ever Talks, And Man Ever Dreams Of Better Days That Are Yet To Be, After Glittering Goal, That Distant Gleams, Running And Racing Untiringly. The Worldly May Grow Old And Young As It Will, But The Hope Of Man Is Improvement Still. Hope Bears Him Into Life In Her Arms, She Flutters Around The Boy's Young Bloom, The Soul Of Youth With Her Magic Warms, Nor Rests With Age In The Silent Tomb; For Ends Man His Weary Course At The Grave, There Plants He Hope O'er His Ashes To Wave.

As Inclination Changes, Thus Ebbs And Flows The Unstable Tide Of Public Judgment.

Appearance Rules The World.