If Ever Shakespeare Rants, It Is Not

The Opinion Of The Great Body Of The Reading Public Is Very Materially Influenced Even By The Unsupported Assertions Of Those Who Assume A Right To Criticize.

In After-life You May Have Friends--fond, Dear Friends; But Never Will You Have Again The Inexpressible Love And Gentleness Lavished Upon You Which None But A Mother Bestows.

In Taste And Imagination, In The Graces Of Style, In The Arts Of Persuasion, In The Magnificence Of Public Works, The Ancients Were At Least Our Equals.

A Dominant Religion Is Never Ascetic.

Oh, Wherefore Come Ye Forth In Triumph From The North, With Your Hands, And Your Feet, And Your Raiment All Red? And Wherefore Doth Your Rout Send Forth A Joyous Shout? And Whence Be The Grapes Of The Wine-press Which Ye Tread?