Life is the jailer, death the angel sent to draw the unwilling bolts and set us free.
James Russell LowellI tell ye wut, my judgment is you're pooty sure to fail, Ez long 'z the head keeps turnin' back for counsel to the the tail.
James Russell LowellThe stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, and still fluttered down the snow.
James Russell LowellIt is curious for one who studies the action and reaction of national literature on each other, to see the humor of Swift and Sterne and Fielding, after filtering through Richter, reappear in Carlyle with a tinge of Germanism that makes it novel, alien, or even displeasing, as the case may be, to the English mind.
James Russell Lowell