Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom golden in the green grass, this life can be.

For my omniscience paid I toll In infinite remorse of soul. All sin was of my sinning, all Atoning mine, and mine the gall Of all regret. Mine was the weight Of every brooded wrong, the hate That stood behind each envious thrust, Mine every greed, mine every lust. And all the while for every grief, Each suffering, I craved relief With individual desire, – Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire About a thousand people crawl; Perished with each, — then mourned for all!

We are all ruled in what we do by impulses; and these impulses are so organized that our actions in general serve for our self preservation and that of the race.

I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.

Life must go on, Though good men die.

The young are so old, they are born with their fingers crossed.

it may be said of me by Harper & Brothers, that although I reject their proposals, I welcome their advances.