The Past Is The Sepulchre

There Are Ceremonious Bows That Repel One Like A Cudgel.

We Give Our Best Affections To The Beautiful, Only Our Second Best To The Useful.

It Is Seldom That We Find Out How Great Are Our Resources Until We Are Thrown Upon Them.

Melancholy Sees The Worst Of Things, Things As They May Be, And Not As They Are. It Looks Upon A Beautiful Face, And Sees But A Grinning Skull.

The Beauty Seen Is Partly In Him Who Sees It. [a Predisposition To Notice The Beautiful, In Everything.]