What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is?

With many readers, brilliancy of style passes for affluence of thought; they mistake buttercups in the grass for immeasurable gold mines under ground.

Today is the blocks with which we build.

Is this is a dream? O, if it be a dream, Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet!

To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution.

Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.

The Laws of Nature are just, but terrible. There is no weak mercy in them. Cause and consequence are inseparable and inevitable. The elements have no forbearance. The fire burns, the water drowns, the air consumes, the earth buries. And perhaps it would be well for our race if the punishment of crimes against the Laws of Man were as inevitable as the punishment of crimes against the Laws of Nature -were Man as unerring in his judgments as Nature.