If I Hate The Sins,

A Little Girl Loves Her Bird--why? Because It Lives And Feels; Because It Is Helpless And Harmless? A Toad, Likewise, Lives And Feels, And Is Equally Helpless And Harmless; But Though She Would Not Hurt A Toad, She Cannot Love It Like The Bird, With Its Graceful Form, Soft Feathers, And Bright, Speaking Eyes.

There's Nothing Like Active Employment, I Suppose, To Console The Afflicted.

Keep Guard Over Your Eyes And Ears As The Inlets Of Your Heart, And Over Your Lips As The Outlets, Lest They Betray You In A Moment Of Unwariness.

I Began This Book With The Intention Of Concealing Nothing, That Those Who Liked Might Have The Benefit Of Perusing A Fellow Creature's Heart: But We Have Some Thoughts That All The Angels In Heaven Are Welcome To Behold -- But Not Our Brother-men -- Not Even The Best And Kindest Amongst Them.

I Still Preserve Those Relics Of Past Sufferings And Experience, Like Pillars Of Witness Set Up In Travelling Through The Valve Of Life, To Mark Particular Occurrences. The Footsteps Are Obliterated Now; The Face Of The Country May Be Changed; But The Pillar Is Still There, To Remind Me How All Things Were When It Was Reared.