Presents, I often say, endear absents.

A garden was the primitive prison, till man with Promethean felicity and boldness, luckily sinned himself out of it.

A babe is fed with milk and praise.

To sigh, yet feel no pain; To weep, yet scarce know why; To sport an hour with Beauty's chain, Then throw it idly by.

Philanthropy, like charity, must begin at home.

Don't introduce me to that man! I want to go on hating him, and I can't hate a man whom I know.

How often you are irresistibly drawn to a plain, unassuming woman, whose soft silvery tones render her positively attractive! In the social circle, how pleasant it is to hear a woman talk in that low key which always characterizes the true lady. In the sanctuary of home, how such a voice soothes the fretful child and cheers the weary husband!