He who thinks much says but little in proportion to his thoughts. He selects that language which will convey his ideas in the most explicit and direct manner. He tries to compress as much thought as possible into a few words. On the contrary, the man who talks everlastingly and promiscuously, who seems to have an exhaustless magazine of sound, crowds so many words into his thoughts that he always obscures, and very frequently conceals them.

Sometimes the table was graced with immense apple-pies, or saucers full of preserved peaches and pears; but it was always sure to boast an enormous dish of balls of sweetened dough, fried in hog's fat, and called doughnuts, or olykoeks - a delicious kind of cake, at present scarce known in this city, except in genuine Dutch families.

The only happy author in this world is he who is below the care of reputation.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.

There is a healthful hardiness about real dignity that never dreads contact and communion with others however humble.

I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration.

There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of forest trees.