The election makes me think of a story of a man who was dying. He had only two minutes to live, so he sent for a clergyman and asked him, "Where is the best place to go to?" He was undecided about it. So the minister told him that each place had its advantages--heaven for climate, and hell for society.

I've had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened.

In America, we hurry-which is well; but when the day's work is done, we go on thinking of losses and gains, we plan for the morrow, we even carry our business cares to bed with us...we burn up our energies with these excitements, and either die early or drop into a lean and mean old age at a time of life which they call a man's prime in Europe...What a robust people, what a nation of thinkers we might be, if we would only lay ourselves on the shelf occasionally and renew our edges!

Not until you become a stranger to yourself will you be able to make acquaintance with the Friend.

Adam was the luckiest man in the world. He had no mother-in-law.

Let me make the superstitions of a nation and I care not who makes its laws or its songs either.

But we are all insane, anyway. Note the mountain-climbers.