To Be Able To Say

Hope Is Incredible To The Slave Of Grief.

Reality Is Always The Foe Of Famous Names.

The Aged Love What Is Practical While Impetuous Youth Longs Only For What Is Dazzling.

Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our Dreaming. Oh, That We May Be Allowed To Wake Before Death Wakes Us.

Books Never Pall On Me. They Discourse With Us, They Take Counsel With Us, And Are United To Us By A Certain Living Chatty Familiarity. And Not Only Does Each Book Inspire The Sense That It Belongs To Its Readers, But It Also Suggests The Name Of Others, And One Begets The Desire Of The Other.