Power Of Generalizing Gives Men So Much

Many An Irritating Fault, Many An Unlovely Oddity, Has Come Of A Hard Sorrow.

There's Many A Good Bit O' Work Done With A Sad Heart.

So Much Of Our Early Gladness Vanishes Utterly From Our Memory: We Can Never Recall The Joy With Which We Laid Our Heads On Our Mother's Bosom Or Rode On Our Father's Back In Childhood; Doubtless That Joy Is Wrought Up Into Our Nature, As The Sunlight Of Long-past Mornings Is Wrought Up In The Soft Mellowness Of The Apricot; But It Is Gone Forever From Our Imagination, And We Can Only Believe In The Joy Of Childhood.

The Floods Of Nonsense Printed In The Form Of Critical Opinions Seem To Me A Chief Curse Of The Times, A Chief Obstacle To True Culture.

A Mother's Yearning Feels The Presence Of The Cherished Child Even In The Degraded Man.