Children Are What The Mothers Are.

Circumstances Form The Character; But, Like Petrifying Matters, They Harden While They Form.

Even The Weakest Disputant Is Made So Conceited By What He Calls Religion, As To Think Himself Wiser Than The Wisest Who Thinks Differently From Him.

Falsehood Is For A Season.

Justice Is Often Pale And Melancholy; But Gratitude, Her Daughter, Is Constantly In The Flow Of Spirits And The Bloom Of Loveliness.

Solitude Is The Audience-chamber Of God.