The Natural Wants Are Few, And Easily

Successful Love Takes A Load Off Our Hearts, And Puts It Upon Our Shoulders.

There Is No Sense Of Weariness Like That Which Closes In A Day Of Eager And Unintermittent Pursuit Of Pleasure. The Apple Is Eaten, But "the Core Sticks In The Throat." Expectation Has Then Given Way To Ennui, Appetite To Satiety.

God, We Are Told, Looked Upon The World After He Had Created It And Pronounced It Good; But Ascetic Pietists, In Their Wisdom, Cast Their Eyes Over It, And Substantially Pronounce It A Dead Failure, A Miserable Production, A Poor Concern.

The Greatest Happiness Comes From The Greatest Activity.

Men, Like Musical Instruments, Seem Made To Be Played Upon.