Passion Doesn't Look Beyond The Moment Of

Sorrow Is Never More Sorrowful Than When It Jests At Its Own Misery.

Love Makes A Few Weeks So Rich That All The Rest Of Our Lives Seems Poor In Comparison.

Words, Like Cannon Balls, Should Go Direct To Their Mark.

The Very Cunning Conceal Their Cunning; The Indifferently Shrewd Boast Of It.

A Mother's Love Is Indeed The Golden Link That Binds Youth To Age; And He Is Still But A Child, However Time May Have Furrowed His Cheek, Or Silvered His Brow, Who Can Yet Recall, With A Softened Heart, The Fond Devotion, Or The Gentle Chidings, Of The Best Friend That God Gives Us.