Oh For A Seat In

Whatever Evil Befalls Us, We Ought To Ask Ourselves... How We Can Turn It Into Good. So Shall We Take Occasion, From One Bitter Root, To Raise Perhaps Many Flowers.

It Is A Delicious Moment, Certainly, That Of Being Well Nestled In Bed, And Feeling That You Shall Drop Gently To Sleep. The Good Is To Come, Not Past; The Limbs Have Just Been Tired Enough To Render The Remaining In One Posture Delightful; The Labour Of The Day Is Gone

Sympathizing And Selfish People Are Alike, Both Given To Tears.

Words Are Often Things Also, And Very Precious, Especially On The Gravest Occasions. Without "words," And The Truth Of Things That Is In Them, What Were We?

The Most Tangible Of All Visible Mysteries - Fire.