Gray Hairs Seem To My Fancy Like

In Science The New Is An Advance; But In Morals, As Contradicting Our Inner Ideals And Historic Idols, It Is Ever A Retrogression.

The Darkness Of Death Is Like The Evening Twilight; It Makes All Objects Appear More Lovely To The Dying.

I Have Made As Much Out Of Myself As Could Be Made Of The Stuff, And No Man Should Require More.

Like A Morning Dream, Life Becomes More And More Bright The Longer We Live, And The Reason Of Everything Appears More Clear. What Has Puzzled Us Before Seems Less Mysterious, And The Crooked Paths Look Straighter As We Approach The End.

Men, Like Bullets, Go Farthest When They Are Smoothest.