There is something magnificent in having a country to love.

Our American republic will endure only as long as the ideas of the men who founded it continue dominant.

Who is it needs such flawless shafts as fate? What archer of his arrows is so choice, or hits the white so surely?

All God's angels come to us disguised.

Taste is the next gift to genius.

Evil springs up, and flowers, and bears no seed, And feeds the green earth with its swift decay, Leaving it richer for the growth of truth.

They talk about their Pilgrim blood, their birthright high and holy! a mountain-stream that ends in mud thinks is melancholy.