Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylæ!

It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.

Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.

So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!

The busy have no time for tears.

I slept and dreamt that life was beauty; I woke and found that life was duty.

Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.