Humor Hardens The Heart, At Least To

The Diseases Of The Present Have Little In Common With The Diseases Of The Past Save That We Die Of Them.

Sleep Sweetly In The Fields Of Asphodel, And Waken, As Of Old, To Stretch Thy Languid Length, And Purr Thy Soft Contentment To The Skies.

Whatever Has "wit Enough To Keep It Sweet" Defies Corruption And Outlasts All Time; But The Wit Must Be Of That Outward And Visible Order Which Needs No Introduction Or Demonstration At Our Hands.

Those Persons Are Happiest In This Restless And Mutable World Who Are In Love With Change, Who Delight In What Is New Simply Because It Differs From What Is Old; Who Rejoice In Every Innovation, And Find A Strange Alert Pleasure In All That Is, And That Has Never Been Before.

This Is The Sphinx Of The Hearthstone, The Little God Of Domesticity, Whose Presence Turns A House Into A Home.