There Is A Majestic Grandeur In Tranquillity.

Men Are Always Doomed To Be Duped, Not So Much By The Arts Of The Other As By Their Own Imagination. They Are Always Wooing Goddesses, And Marrying Mere Mortals.

It Is Not Poverty So Much As Pretense That Harasses A Ruined Man.

The Almighty Dollar, That Great Object Of Universal Devotion.

Surely Happiness Is Reflective, Like The Light Of Heaven.

The Oil And Wine Of Merry Meeting.