We sometimes congratulate ourselves at the moment of waking from a troubled dream; it may be so the moment after death.

What other dungeon is so dark as one's own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one's self!

Not yet hardened, many young die good.

Religion and art spring from the same root and are close kin. Economics and art are strangers.

Of all the events which constitute a person's biography, there is scarcely one ... to which the world so easily reconciles itself as to his death.

Death possesses a good deal, of real estate, namely, the graveyard in every town.

Before this ugly edifice, and between it and the wheel-track of the street, was a grass-plot, much overgrown with burdock, pig-weed, apple-pern, and such unsightly vegetation, which evidently found something congenial in the soil that had so early borne the black flower of civilized society, a prison.