Critics are sentinels in the grand army of letters, stationed at the corners of newspapers and reviews, to challenge every new author.

Art is the child of Nature.

Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.

Life is the gift of God, and is divine.

There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings.

The day is done; and slowly from the scene the stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts, and puts them back into his golden quiver!

All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain.