There Is A Sacredness In Tears

To Occupy An Inch Of Dusty Shelf-to Have The Title Of Their Works Read Now And Then In A Future Age By Some Drowsy Churchman Or Casual Straggler, And In Another Age To Be Lost, Even To Remembrance. Such Is The Amount Of Boasted Immortality.

A Mother Is The Truest Friend We Have When Trials, Heavy And Sudden, Fall Upon Us; When Adversity Takes The Place Of Prosperity.

Nothing Can Be More Touching Than To Behold A Soft And Tender Female, Who Had Been All Weakness And Dependence, And Alive To Every Trivial Roughness While Treading The Prosperous Paths Of Life, Suddenly Rising In Mental Force To Be The Comforter And Supporter Of Her Husband Under Misfortune, And Abiding With Unshrinking Firmness The Bitterest Blast Of Adversity.

An Inexhaustible Good Nature Is One Of The Most Precious Gifts Of Heaven, Spreading Itself Like Oil Over The Troubled Sea Of Thought, And Keeping The Mind Smooth And Equable In The Roughest Weather.

There Is Certain Relief In Change, Even Though It Be From Bad To Worse! As I Have Often Found In Traveling In A Stagecoach, That It Is Often A Comfort To Shift One's Position, And Be Bruised In A New Place.