Mellow Nuts Have The Hardest Rind.

It Is The Privilege Of Tale-tellers To Open Their Story In An Inn, The Free Rendezvous Of All Travellers, And Where The Humour Of Each Displays Itself, Without Ceremony Or Restraint.

There Are Those To Whom A Sense Of Religion Has Come In Storm And Tempest; There Are Those Whom It Has Summoned Amid Scenes Of Revelry And Idle Vanity; There Are Those, Too, Who Have Heard Its "still Small Voice" Amid Rural Leisure And Placid Retirement. But Perhaps The Knowledge Which Causeth Not To Err Is Most Frequently Impressed Upon The Mind During The Season Of Affliction.

Many Of Our Cares Are But A Morbid Way Of Looking At Our Privileges

I Like A Highland Friend Who Will Stand By Me Not Only When I Am In The Right, But When I Am A Little In The Wrong.

And Love Is Loveliest When Embalm'd In Tears.