O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I hazard the guess that man will be ultimately known for a mere polity of multifarious, incongruous, and independent denizens.

There comes an end to all things; the most capacious measure is filled at last; and this brief condescension to evil finally destroyed the balance of my soul.

Politics is perhaps the only profession for which no preparation is thought necessary.

The mark of a Scot of all classes [is that] he ... remembers and cherishes the memory of his forebears, good or bad; and there burns alive in him a sense of identity with the dead even to the twentieth generation.

The little rift between the sexes is astonishingly widened by simply teaching one set of catchwords to the girls and another to the boys.

There's never a man looked me between the eyes and seen a good day a'terward.