The Death I Should Prefer Would Be

Yesterday Morning I Amused Myself With An Exercise Of A Talent I Once Possessed, But Have So Neglected That My Performance Might Almost Be Called An Experiment. I Cut Out A Dress For One Of The Women.

Though The Negroes Are Fed, Clothed, And Housed, And Though The Irish Peasant Is Starved, Naked, And Roofless, The Bare Name Of Freemen-the Lordship Over His Own Person, The Power To Choose And Will-are Blessings Beyond Food, Raiment, Or Shelter; Possessing Which, The Want Of Every Comfort Of Life Is Yet More Tolerable Than Their Fullest Enjoyment Without Them.

Your Theory Of Partial Immortality Is Abhorrent To Me. I Would Rather Disbelieve In The Immortality Of My Own Soul Than Suppose The Boon Given To Me Was Withheld From Any Of My Fellow Creatures.

Simplicity Is A Great Element Of Good Breeding.

What Shall I Do With All The Days And Hours That Must Be Counted Ere I See Thy Face? How Shall I Charm The Interval That Lowers Between This Time And That Sweet Time Of Grace?