... True Love Is Like

It Merely Shews, After All, That Affection Is A Habit.

No Thoroughly Occupied Man Was Ever Yet Very Miserable.

Good Taste Is His Religion, His Morality, His Standard, And His Test.

We Would Liken Music To Aladdin's Lamp — Worthless In Itself, Not So For The Spirits Which Obey Its Call. We Love It For The Buried Hopes, The Garnered Memories, The Tender Feelings, It Can Summon With A Touch.

Strange The Affection Which Clings To Inanimate Objects - Objects Which Cannot Even Know Our Love! But It Is Not Return That Constitutes The Strength Of An Attachment.