Mirth Is God's Medicine. Everybody

Love Is The River Of Life In This World. Think Not That Ye Know It Who Stand At The Little Tinkling Rill, The First Small Fountain. Not Until You Have Gone Through The Rocky Gorges, And Not Lost The Stream; Not Until You Nave Gone Through The Meadow, And The Stream Has Widened And Deepened Until Fleets Could Ride On Its Bosom; Not Until Beyond The Meadow You Have Come To The Unfathomable Ocean, And Poured Your Treasures Into Its Depths--not Until Then Can You Know What Love Is.

There Never Was A Liar That Had Not A Spot In Him Where He Could Not Help Admiring Truth.

It Is Part And Parcel Of Every Man's Life To Develop Beauty In Himself. All Perfect Things Have In Them An Element Of Beauty.

Hope Is Sweet-minded And Sweet-eyed. It Draws Pictures; It Weaves Fancies; It Fills The Future With Delight.

It Is One Of The Worst Effects Of Prosperity To Make A Man A Vortex Instead Of A Fountain; So That, Instead Of Throwing Out, He Learns Only To Draw In.