The drama is the looking-glass in which we see the hideousness of vice and the beauties of virtue.

Carols of gladness ring from every tree.

The most intense curiosity and excitement prevailed, and though the weather was uncertain, enormous masses of densely packed people lined the road, shouting and waving hats and handkerchiefs as we flew by them.

Those that we love never alter, unless we cease to love them.

...I cannot help being astonished at the furious and ungoverned execration which all reference to the possibility of a fusion of the races draws down upon those who suggest it, because nobody pretends to deny that, throughout the South, a large proportion of the population is the offspring of white men and colored women.

The spring is already here with her hands full of flowers.

The death I should prefer would be to break my neck off the back of a good horse at a full gallop on a fine day.