Happiness Is Like A Butterfly.

Many Writers Lay Very Great Stress Upon Some Definite Moral Purpose, At Which They Profess To Aim Their Works.

Mountains Are Earth's Undecaying Monuments.

We Dream In Our Waking Moments, And Walk In Our Sleep.

Our Most Intimate Friend Is Not He To Whom We Show The Worst, But The Best Of Our Nature.

The Founders Of A New Colony, Whatever Utopia Of Human Virtue And Happiness They Might Originally Project, Have Invariably Recognized It Among Their Earliest Practical Necessities To Allot A Portion Of The Virgin Soil As A Cemetery, And Another Portion As The Site Of A Prison.