We Call Comeliness A Mischance In The

We Are Nearer Neighbours To Ourselves Than Whiteness To Snow, Or Weight To Stones.

There Is No More Expensive Thing Than A Free Gift.

Disappointment And Feebleness Imprint Upon Us A Cowardly And Valetudinarian Virtue.

In Love, 'tis No Other Than Frantic Desire For That Which Flies From Us.

It Is An Injustice That An Old, Broken, Half-dead Father Should Enjoy Alone, In A Corner Of His Hearth, Possessions That Would Suffice For The Advancement And Maintenance Of Many Children.