Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.
An axe at home saves hiring a carpenter.
We, we live! ours are the hours, and the living have their claims.
Honor women! they entwine and weave heavenly roses in our earthly life.
A gloomy guest fits not a wedding feast.
It is not the mere station of life that stamps the value on us, but the manner in which we act our part.