Paradise Is Always Where Love Dwells.

Each Departed Friend Is A Magnet That Attracts Us To The Next World.

I Would Rather Dwell In The Dim Fog Of Superstition Than In Air Rarefied To Nothing By The Air-pump Of Unbelief-in Which The Panting Breast Expires, Vainly And Convulsively Gasping For Breath.

Universal Love Is A Glove Without Fingers, Which Fits All Bands Alike And None Closely; But True Affection Is Like A Glove With Fingers, Which Fits One Hand Only, And Sits Close To That One.

A Variety Of Nothing Is Superior To A Monotony Of Something.

It Is Simpler And Easier To Flatter People Than To Praise Them.