True Love Is The Ripe Fruit Of

Silence,--the Applause Of Real And Durable Impressions.

Grief Knits Two Hearts In Closer Bonds Than Happiness Ever Can; And Common Sufferings Are Far Stronger Links Than Common Joys.

Shall Not This Bygone Eden That We Knew In Our Eternal Life Have Shape And Hue? For Where Time Is Not Shall Not All Time Be? In That Calm Breast Whereto Our Souls Are Cleaving Shall We Not Find Our Loved Ones Beyond Grieving About The Hearth-stone Of Eternity?

True Love Is The Ripe Fruit Of A Lifetime.

Enthusiasm Springs From The Imagination, And Self-sacrifice From The Heart. Women Are, Therefore, More Naturally Heroic Than Men. All Nations Have In Their Annals Some Of These Miracles Of Patriotism, Of Which Woman Is The Instrument In The Hands Of God.