Think Of A Man In

What Place Is So Rugged And So Homely That There Is No Beauty; If You Only Have A Sensibility To Beauty?

The Morbid States Of Health, The Irritableness Of Disposition Arising From Unstrung Nerves, The Impatience, The Crossness, The Fault-finding Of Men, Who, Full Of Morbid Influences, Are Unhappy Themselves, And Throw The Cloud Of Their Troubles Like A Dark Shadow Upon Others, Teach Us What Eminent Duty There Is In Health.

May We Be Satisfied With Nothing That Shall Not Have In It Something Of Immortality.

He Is The Happiest Man Who Is Engaged In A Business Which Tasks The Most Faculties Of His Mind.

No Town Can Fail Of Beauty, Though Its Walks Were Gutters And Its Houses Hovels, If Venerable Trees Make Magnificent Colonnades Along Its Streets.