Good heavens, of what un costly material is our earthly happiness composed... if we only knew it. What incomes have we not had from a flower, and how unfailing are the dividends of the seasons.

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.

Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.

And the poorest twig on the elm-tree was ridged inch deep with pearl.

I don't believe in princerple, But oh I du in interest.

The opening of the first grammar school was the opening of the first trench against monopoly in Church and State.

To be young is surely the best, if the most precarious, gift of life.