It Loves More Readily Than It Hates.

Yesterday I Visited The British Museum; An Exceedingly Tiresome Affair. It Quite Crushes A Person To See So Much At Once; And I Wandered From Hall To Hall With A Weary And Heavy Heart. The Present Is Burdened Too Much With The Past.

Strength Is Incomprehensible By Weakness, And, Therefore, The More Terrible.

But, All This While, I Was Giving Myself Very Unnecessary Alarm. Providence Had Mediated Better Things For Me Than I Could Possibly Imagine For Myself.

What Other Dungeon Is So Dark As One's Own Heart! What Jailer So Inexorable As One's Self!

Life Is Made Up Of Marble And Mud.