Only Deeds Give Strength To

The Darkness Of Death Is Like The Evening Twilight; It Makes All Objects Appear More Lovely To The Dying.

A Woman Who Could Always Love Would Never Grow Old; And The Love Of Mother And Wife Would Often Give Or Preserve Many Charms If It Were Not Too Often Combined With Parental And Conjugal Anger. There Remains In The Face Of Women Who Are Naturally Serene And Peaceful, And Of Those Rendered So By Religion, An After-spring, And Later An After-summer, The Reflex Of Their Most Beautiful Bloom.

The End We Aim At Must Be Known, Before The Way Can Be Made.

Nations And Men Are Only The Best When They Are The Gladdest, And Deserve Heaven When They Enjoy It.

Joys Are Our Wings, Sorrows Our Spurs.