I do see that there is an argument against suicide: the grief of the worshipers left behind, the awful famine in their hearts, these are too costly terms for the release.

Principles have no real force except when one is well-fed.

Age enlarges and enriches the powers of some musical instruments - notably those of the violin - but it seems to set a piano's teeth on edge.

What's your name?" "Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer." "That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me Tom, will you?" "Yes

Prosperity is the best protector of principle.

Now I can only pray that there may be a God -- and a heaven -- or something better.

How lovely is death; and how niggardly it is doled out.