Feelings Of Man Are Always Pure And

What A Father Says To His Children Is Not Heard By The World, But It Will Be Heard By Posterity.

Because The Heart Beats Under A Covering Of Hair, Of Fur, Feathers, Or Wings, It Is, For That Reason, To Be Of No Account?

It Has Been Jestingly Said That The Works Of John Paul Richter Are Almost Unintelligible To Any But The Germans, And Even To Some Of Them. A Worthy German, Just Before Richter's Death, Edited A Complete Edition Of His Works, In Which One Particular Passage Fairly Puzzled Him. Determined To Have It Explained At The Source, He Went To John Paul Himself. The Author's Reply Was Very Characteristic: "my Good Friend, When I Wrote That Passage, God And I Knew What It Meant; It Is Possible That God Knows It Still; But As For Me, I Have Totally Forgotten."

Man Has Here Two And A Half Minutes-one To Smile, One To Sigh, And A Half To Love: For In The Midst Of This Minute He Dies.

We Learn Our Virtues From Our Friends Who Love Us; Our Faults From The Enemy Who Hates Us. We Cannot Easily Discover Our Real Character From A Friend. He Is A Mirror, On Which The Warmth Of Our Breath Impedes The Clearness Of The Reflection.