I Almost Think It Is The Ultimate

The Waste Of Plenty Is The Resource Of Scarcity.

Names Are Changed More Readily Than Doctrines, And Doctrines More Readily Than Ceremonies.

The Juice Of The Grape Is The Liquid Quintessence Of Concentrated Sunbeams.

But Though First Love's Impassioned Blindness Has Passed Away In Colder Light, I Still Have Thought Of You With Kindness, And Shall Do, Till Our Last Goodnight. The Ever-rolling Silent Hours Will Bring A Time We Shall Not Know, When Our Young Days Of Gathering Flowers Will Be An Hundred Years Ago.

Laughter Ispleasant, Butthe Exertion Istoomuchfor Me.