Heaven Trims Our Lamps While We Sleep.

Nor Is A Day Lived If The Dawn Is Left Out Of It, With The Prospects It Opens. Who Speaks Charmingly Of Nature Or Of Mankind, Like Him Who Comes Bibulous Of Sunrise And The Fountains Of Waters?

The Fable Runs That The Gods Mix Our Pains And Pleasure In One Cup, And Thus Mingle For Us The Adulterate Immortality Which We Alone Are Permitted Here To Enjoy. Voluptuous Raptures, Could We Prolong These At Pleasure, Would Dissipate And Dissolve Us. A Sip Is The Most That Mortals Are Permitted From Any Goblet Of Delight.

Health, Longevity, Beauty, Are Other Names For Personal Purity; And Temperance Is The Regimen For All.

Modesty Is Bred Of Self-reverence. Fine Manners Are The Mantle Of Fair Minds.

Ignorance Is Innocence - Stupidity Comes With Experience