Conscience, Like A Child, Is

Whenever I Hear A Man Talking Of The Advantages Of Our Ill-used Sex, I Look Upon It As The Prelude To Some New Act Of Authority.

There Is The Cause For Pleasure And For Pain: But Music Moves Us, And We Know Not Why? We Feel The Tears, But Cannot Trace Their Source. Is It The Language Of Some Other State, Born Of Its Memory! For What Can Wake The Soul's Strong Instinct Of Another World, Like Music！

Oh, Only Those Whose Souls Have Felt This One Idolatry Can Tell How Precious Is The Slightest Thing Affection Gives And Hallows.

Habit Is A Second Nature, And What Was At First Pleasure, Is Next Necessity.

Memory Has Many Conveniences, And, Among Others, That Of Foreseeing Things As They Have Afterwards Happened.