One Seeks To Make The Loved One

A Blockhead Cannot Come In, Nor Go Away, Nor Sit, Nor Rise, Nor Stand, Like A Man Of Sense.

A Heap Of Epithets Is Poor Praise: The Praise Lies In The Facts, And In The Way Of Telling Them.

That Man Is Good Who Does Good To Others; If He Suffers On Account Of The Good He Does, He Is Very Good; If He Suffers At The Hands Of Those To Whom He Has Done Good, Then His Goodness Is So Great That It Could Be Enhanced Only By Greater Sufferings; And If He Should Die At Their Hands, His Virtue Can Go No Further: It Is Heroic, It Is Perfect.

It Is Worse To Apprehend Than To Suffer.

A Man Is Thirty Years Old Before He Has Any Settled Thoughts Of His Fortune; It Is Not Completed Before Fifty. He Falls To Building In His Old Age, And Dies By The Time His House Is In A Condition To Be Painted And Glazed.