Nor is a day lived if the dawn is left out of it, with the prospects it opens. Who speaks charmingly of nature or of mankind, like him who comes bibulous of sunrise and the fountains of waters?

Friends are the leaders of the bosom, being more ourselves than we are, and we complement our affections in theirs.

Yet the deepest truths are best read between the lines, and, for the most part, refuse to be written.

Debate is angular, conversation circular and radiant of the underlying unity.

Fullness is always quiet; agitation will answer for empty vessels only.

Good-humor, gay spirits, are the liberators, the sure cure for spleen and melancholy. Deeper than tears, these irradiate the tophets with their glad heavens. Go laugh, vent the pits, transmuting imps into angels by the alchemy of smiles. The satans flee at the sight of these redeemers.

Where there is a mother in the home, matters go well.