There is a woe that is wisdom, a woe that is madness.

To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.

While nature thus very early and very abundantly feeds us, she is very late in tutoring us as to the proper methodization of our diet.

Poor fish of Rodondo! in your victimized confidence, you are of the number of those who inconsiderately trust, while they do not understand, human nature.

We should, if possible, prove a teacher to posterity, instead of being the pupil of by-gone generations. More shall come after us than have gone before; the world is not yet middle-aged.

The sweetest joys of life grow in the very jaws of its perils.

The western spirit is, or will yet be (for no other is, or can be) the true American one.