There Is Perfect Love In Heaven!

If You Would Have A Boy To Despise His Mother, Let Her Keep Him At Home, And Spend Her Life In Petting Him Up, And Slaving To Indulge His Follies And Caprices.

My Cup Of Sweets Is Not Unmingled: It Is Dashed With A Bitterness That I Cannot Hide From Myself, Disguise It As I Will.

But He That Dares Not Grasp The Thorn Should Never Crave The Rose.

He Had Not Breathed A Word Of Love, Or Dropped One Hint Of Tenderness Or Affection, And Yet I Had Been Supremely Happy. To Be Near Him, To Hear Him Talk As He Did Talk, And To Feel That He Thought Me Worthy To Be So Spoken To - Capable Of Understanding And Duly Appreciating Such Discourse - Was Enough.

But As The Priceless Treasure Too Frequently Hides At The Bottom Of Well, It Needs Some Courage To Dive For It, Especially As He That Does So Will Be Likely To Incur More Scorn And Obloquy For The Mud And Water Into Which He Has Ventured To Plunge, Than Thanks For The Jewel He Procures; As Like In Manner, She Who Undertakes The Cleansing Of A Careless Bachelor's Apartment Will Be Liable To More Abuse For The Dust She Raises Than Commendation For The Clearance She Effects.