Poetry Is The Breath Of Beauty.

Where The Mouth Is Sweet And The Eyes Intelligent, There Is Always The Look Of Beauty, With A Right Heart.

The Very Greatest Genius, After All, Is Not The Greatest Thing In The World, Any More Than The Greatest City In The World Is The Country Or The Sky. It Is The Concentration Of Some Of Its Greatest Powers, But It Is Not The Greatest Diffusion Of Its Might. It Is Not The Habit Of Its Success, The Stability Of Its Sereneness.

We Must Regard All Matter As An Intrusted Secret Which We Believe The Person Concerned Would Wish To Be Considered As Such. Nay, Further Still, We Must Consider All Circumstances As Secrets Intrusted Which Would Bring Scandal Upon Another If Told.

Improvement Is Nature.

Poetry Is The Breath Of Beauty.