Like The Greatest Virtue And The Worst

Recollection Is The Only Paradise From Which We Cannot Be Turned Out.

It Is Not The End Of Joy That Makes Old Age So Sad, But The End Of Hope.

For Sleep, Riches And Health To Be Truly Enjoyed And Gratefully Appreciated, They Must Be Interrupted So The Person Can See That Not Having Them Is Not As Good As Having Them.

Joy Descends Gently Upon Us Like The Evening Dew, And Does Not Patter Down Like A Hailstorm.

What A Father Says To His Children Is Not Heard By The World, But It Will Be Heard By Posterity.