Adversity Is, To Me At Least, A

Every Hour Has Its End.

We Are Like The Herb Which Flourisheth Most When It Is Most Trampled On.

Love Will Subsist On Wonderfully Little Hope But Not Altogether Without It.

Just At The Age 'twixt Boy And Youth, When Thought Is Speech, And Speech Is Truth.

Commend Me To Sterling Honesty Though Clad In Rags.