And O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death.

She writhes under her life. A woman more angry, passionate, reckless, and revengeful never lived.

The weathercocks on spires and housetops were mysterious with hints of stormy wind, and pointed, like so many ghostly fingers, out to dangerous seas, where fragments of great wrecks were drifting, perhaps, and helpless men were rocked upon them into a sleep as deep as the unfathomable waters.

One great blemish in the popular mind of America and the prolific parent of an innumerable brood of evils, is Universal Distrust . . . you no sooner set up an idol firmly, than you are sure to pull it down and dash it into fragments: and this because directly you reward a benefactor, or a public servant, you distrust him, merely because he is rewarded . . . . Any man who attains a high place among you, from the President downwards, may date his downfall from that moment.

My advice is to never do tomorrow what you can do today. Procrastination is the thief of time.

Be natural my children. For the writer that is natural has fulfilled all the rules of art.

It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.