He Wants Worth Who Dares Not Praise

They Think Too Little Who Talk Too Much.

For Secrets Are Edged Tools, And Must Be Kept From Children And From Fools.

Be Fair, Or Foul, Or Rain, Or Shine, The Joys I Have Possessed, In Spite Of Fate, Are Mine. Not Heaven Itself Upon The Past Has Power; But What Has Been, Has Been, And I Have Had My Hour.

All Heiresses Are Beautiful.

Death In Itself Is Nothing; But We Fear To Be We Know Not What, We Know Not Where.