The Breath Of Flowers Is Far Sweeter

I Like, You May Say, The Glitter And Colour That Comes From The Mouth, And I've Always Hoped In A Sense To Be Able To Paint The Mouth Like Monet Painted A Sunset.

Habit, If Wisely And Skillfully Formed, Becomes Truly A Second Nature; But Unskillfully And Unmethodically Depicted, It Will Be As It Were An Ape Of Nature, Which Imitates Nothing To The Life, But Only Clumsily And Awkwardly

A Man That Hath No Virtue In Himself, Ever Envieth Virtue In Others. For Men's Minds, Will Either Feed Upon Their Own Good, Or Upon Others' Evil; And Who Wanteth The One, Will Prey Upon The Other; And Whoso Is Out Of Hope, To Attain To Another's Virtue, Will Seek To Come At Even Hand, By Depressing Another's Fortune.

Much Bending Breaks The Bow; Much Unbending The Mind.

Let The Mind Be Enlarged... To The Grandeur Of The Mysteries, And Not The Mysteries Contracted To The Narrowness Of The Mind