It's Not Work That Kills

Of All The Music That Reached Farthest Into Heaven, It Is The Beating Of A Loving Heart.

But There Have Been Human Hearts, Constituted Just Like Ours, For Six Thousand Years. The Same Stars Rise And Set Upon This Globe That Rose Upon The Plains Of Shinar Or Along The Egyptian Nile And The Same Sorrows Rise And Set In Every Age.

Our Sweetest Experiences Of Affection Are Meant To Be Suggestions Of That Realm Which Is The Home Of The Heart.

The Commerce Of The World Is Conducted By The Strong, And Usually It Operates Against The Weak.

Nature Is A Vast Repository Of Manly Enjoyments.