We Ought To Be Ten Times As

A Love Of Flowers Would Beget Early Rising, Industry, Habits Of Close Observation, And Of Reading. It Would Incline The Mind To Notice Natural Phenomena, And To Reason Upon Them. It Would Occupy The Mind With Pure Thoughts, And Inspire A Sweet And Gentle Enthusiasm; Maintain Simplicity Of Taste; And ... Unfold In The Heart An Enlarged, Unstraightened, Ardent Piety.

Each Book Has A Secret History Of Ways And Means.

Men Strengthen Each Other In Their Faults. Those Who Are Alike Associate Together, Repeat The Things Which All Believe, Defend And Stimulate Their Common Faults Of Disposition, And Each One Receives From The Others A Reflection Of His Own Egotism.

A Lie Is A Very Short Wick In A Very Small Lamp. The Oil Of Reputation Is Very Soon Sucked Up And Gone. And Just As Soon As A Man Is Known To Lie, He Is Like A Two-foot Pump In A Hundred-foot Well. He Cannot Touch Bottom At All.

The Thistle Is A Prince. Let Any Man That Has An Eye For Beauty Take A View Of The Whole Plant, And Where Will He See A More Expressive Grace And Symmetry; And Where Is There A More Kingly Flower?