All Beginnings Are Very Troublesome Things.

Nothing Is So Fortunate For Mankind As Its Diversity Of Opinion.

A Sealed Book, At Whose Contents We Tremble.

There Is No Existence So Content As That Whose Present Is Engrossed By Employment, And Whose Future Is Filled By Some Strong Hope, The Truth Of Which Is Never Proved. Toil And Illusion Are The Only Secrets To Make Life Tolerable.

Ignorance, Far More Than Idleness, Is The Mother Of All The Vices; And How Recent Has Been The Admission, That Knowledge Should Be The Portion Of All? The Destinies Of The Future Lie In Judicious Education; An Education That Must Be Universal, To Be Beneficial.

A Blossom Full Of Promise Is Life's Joy, That Never Comes To Fruit. Hope, For A Time, Suns The Young Floweret In Its Gladsome Light, And It Looks Flourishing--a Little While-- 't Is Pass'd, We Know Not Whither, But 't Is Gone.