Habit Is Our Idea Of Eternity.

I Can Pass Days Stretch'd In The Shade Of Those Old Cedar Trees, Watching The Sunshine Like A Blessing Fall,-- The Breeze Like Music Wandering O'er The Boughs, Each Tree A Natural Harp,--each Different Leaf A Different Note, Blent In One Vast Thanksgiving.

Anybody's Applause Is Better Than Nobody's.

There Are Words To Paint The Misery Of Love, But None To Paint Its Happiness.

Hopes And Regrets Are The Sweetest Links Of Existence.

It Is A Curious Fact, But One Which All Experience Owns, That People Do Not Desire So Much To Appear Better, As To Appear Different From What They Really Are.