A sturdy lad from New Hampshire or Vermont who in turn tries all the professions, who teams it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school,preaches, edits a newspaper, goes to Congress, buys a township, and so forth, in successive years, and always like a cat falls on his feet, is worth a hundred of these city dolls. He walks abreast with his days and feels no shame in not "studying a profession," for he does not postpone his life, but lives already.

Tragedy is in the eye of the observer, and not in the heart of the sufferer.

If you visit your friend, why need you apologize for not having visited him, and waste his time and deface your own act? Visit him now.

The fatal trait of the times is the divorce between religion and morality.

The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.

A few years ago, the liberal churches complained that the Calvinistic church denied to them the name of Christian. I think the complaint was confession; a religious church would not complain.

Life is short but there is always time for courtesy.