There is a remembrance of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the living.

Every antique farm-house and moss-grown cottage is a picture.

From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections.

One point is certain, that truth is one and immutable; until the jurors all agree, they cannot all be right.

The almighty dollar, that great object of universal devotion throughout our land, seems to have no genuine devotees in these peculiar villages.

Acting provides the fulfillment of never being fulfilled. You're never as good as you'd like to be. So there's always something to hope for.

Nothing impresses the mind with a deeper feeling of loneliness than to tread the silent and deserted scene of former throng and pageant.