Our Birthdays Are Feathers In The Broad

It Is Easier And Handier For Men To Flatter Than To Praise.

In Science The New Is An Advance; But In Morals, As Contradicting Our Inner Ideals And Historic Idols, It Is Ever A Retrogression.

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

Sorrows Are Like Thunderclouds, In The Distance They Look Black, Over Our Heads Scarcely Gray.

Every Friend Is To The Other A Sun, And A Sunflower Also. He Attracts And Follows.