You will find the poet who wrings the heart of the world, or the foremost captain of his time, driving a bargain or paring a potato, just as you would do.

... I suppose that the party or sect which is to do any work in the world must breathe its own peculiar atmosphere, speak its own little patois, and see but one side of the question on which it fights.

... while the light burning within may have been divine, the outer case of the lamp was assuredly cheap enough.

War may be an armed angel with a mission, but she has the personal habits of the slums.

You were only truly patriotic if you had a laborer for a grandfather and were glad of it.

Every child was taught from his cradle that money was Mammon, the chief agent of the flesh and the devil.

The histories which we have of the great tragedy give no idea of the general wretchedness, the squalid misery, which entered into every individual life in the region given up to the war. Where the armies camped the destruction was absolute.