... One's Own Faults Are Always A

Oh, The Comfort, The Inexpressible Comfort Of Feeling Safe With A Person; Having Neither To Weigh Thoughts Nor Measure Words, But To Pour Them All Out, Just As They Are, Chaff And Grain Together, Knowing That A Faithful Hand Will Take And Sift Them, Keep What Is Worth Keeping, And Then, With A Breath Of Kindness, Blow The Rest Away.

I Cherish My Childish Loves--the Memory Of That Warm Little Nest Where My Affections Were Fledged.

We Mortals, Men And Women, Devour Many A Disappointment Between Breakfast And Dinnertime.

Life Is Measured By The Rapidity Of Change, The Succession Of Influences That Modify The Being.

To Know Intense Joy Without A Strong Bodily Frame, One Must Have An Enthusiastic Soul.