Folly ends where genuine hope begins.

It is a terrible thought, that nothing is ever forgotten; that not an oath is ever uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all times, in the wide spreading current of sound; that not a prayer is lisped, that its record is not to be found st

How readily we wish time spent revoked, that we might try the ground again where once--through inexperience, as we now perceive--we missed that happiness we might have found!

Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.

The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.

Where men of judgment creep and feel their way, The positive pronounce without dismay.

The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.