History, We Know, Is Apt

I've Never Any Pity For Conceited People, Because I Think They Carry Their Comfort About With Them.

Our Dead Are Never Dead To Us, Until We Have Forgotten Them.

It Was One Of Those Dangerous Moments When Speech Is At Once Sincere And Deceptive - When Feeling, Rising High Above Its Average Depth, Leaves Flood-marks Which Are Never Reached Again.

Some People Are Born To Make Life Pretty, And Others To Grumble That It Is Not Pretty Enough.

O The Anguish Of That Thought That We Can Never Atone To Our Dead For The Stinted Affection We Gave Them, For The Light Answers We Returned To Their Plaints Or Their Pleadings, For The Little Reverence We Showed To That Sacred Human Soul That Lived So Close To Us, And Was The Divinest Thing God Had Given Us To Know!