No Hour Arrives So Soon As The

To This Hour, The Great Science And Duty Of Politics Is Lowered By The Petty Leaven Of Small And Personal Advantage.

If There Be Any One Habit Which More Than Another Is The Dry Rot Of All That Is High And Generous In Youth, It Is The Habit Of Ridicule.

Of All False Assertions That Ever Went Into The World Under The Banner Of A Great Name And The Mail Armor Of A Well-turned Phrase, Locke's Comparison Of The Mind To A Blank Sheet Of Paper Appears To Me Among The Most Untrue.

There Is The Cause For Pleasure And For Pain: But Music Moves Us, And We Know Not Why? We Feel The Tears, But Cannot Trace Their Source. Is It The Language Of Some Other State, Born Of Its Memory! For What Can Wake The Soul's Strong Instinct Of Another World, Like Music！

No Thoroughly Occupied Man Was Ever Yet Very Miserable.[to Feel Unhappy You Need The Time To Consider How Your Lot Could Be Better]