I Do Love Violets; They Tell The

The Dream On The Pillow, That Flits With The Day, The Leaf Of The Willow A Breath Wears Away; The Dust On The Blossom, The Spray On The Sea; Ay,--ask Thine Own Bosom-- Are Emblems Of Thee.

When Does The Mind Put Forth Its Powers? When Are The Stores Of Memory Unlocked? When Does Wit 'flash From Fluent Lips?' -- When But After A Good Dinner? Who Will Deny Its Influence On The Affections? Half Our Friends Are Born Of Turbots And Truffles.

Doubts, Like Facts, Are Stubborn Things.

The Truth Is, We Never Make For Others The Allowance We Make For Ourselves; And We Should Deny Even Our Own Words, Could We Hear Them Spoken By Another.

How Very Satisfactory Those Discussions Must Be, Where Each Party Retains Their Own Opinion!