A defeat to a brave man is only a victory deferred.

Twilight is like death; the dark portal of night comes upon us, to open again in the glorious morning of immortality.

Books are the beehives of thought; laconics, the honey taken from them.

There is no heart without remorse, no life without some misfortune, no one but what is something stained with sin.

A defeat to a brave man is only a victory deferred.

It is a sure sign of a mind not balanced as it ought to be, when it is insensible to the pleasures of the domestic hearth, and to the little joys and endearments of a family.

Newspapers are the world's mirrors.