From Its Peaceful Bosom Spring None But

Men Are Always Doomed To Be Duped, Not So Much By The Arts Of The Other As By Their Own Imagination. They Are Always Wooing Goddesses, And Marrying Mere Mortals.

There Is A Sacredness In Tears. They Are Not The Mark Of Weakness, But Of Power.

And If Unhappy In Her Love, Her Heart Is Like Some Fortress That Has Been Captured, And Sacked, And Abandoned, And Left Desolate.

For What Is History, But... Huge Libel On Human Nature, To Which We Industriously Add Page After Page, Volume After Volume, As If We Were Holding Up A Monument To The Honor, Rather Than The Infamy Of Our Species.

I Sometimes Think One Of The Great Blessings We Shall Enjoy In Heaven, Will Be To Receive Letters By Every Post And Never Be Obliged To Reply To Them.