Virtue, Though Clothed In A Beggar's Garb,

Life Did Not Present Its Sunny Side To Thee.

Man Is Made Of The Wholly Common, And Custom Is His Nurse; Woe Then To Them Who Lay Irreverent Hands On His Old House-furniture, The Dear Inheritance From His Forefathers: For Time Consecrates, And What Is Gray With Age Becomes Religion.

Be True, And Thou Shalt Fetter Time With Everlasting Chain.

The Jest Loses Its Point When He Who Makes It Is The First To Laugh.

Truth Is More Than A Dream And A Song.