Like The Greatest Virtue And The Worst

Every Man Regards His Own Life As The New Year's Eve Of Time.

I Have Made As Much Out Of Myself As Could Be Made Of The Stuff, And No Man Should Require More.

The Last, Best Fruit Which Comes To Late Perfection, Even In The Kindliest Soul, Is Tenderness Toward The Hard, Forbearance Toward The Unforbearing, Warmth Of Heart Toward The Cold, Philanthropy Toward The Misanthropic.

It Is Not Great, But Little Good-haps That Make Up Happiness.

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.