If I could write a story that would do for the Indian one-hundredth part what 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' did for the Negro, I would be thankful the rest of my life.

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

Stain my eyes as I may, on all sides all is black.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

Who longest wait of all surely wins.

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.

Nothing can be so bad as to be displeased with one's self.