The country is not priest-ridded, but press-ridden.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!

Being all fashioned of the self-same dust, let us be merciful as well as just

My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.

It has done me good to be somewhat parched by the heat and drenched by the rain of life.

Ambition is so powerful a passion in the human breast, that however high we reach we are never satisfied.