The Sweeter Sound Of Woman's Praise.

To Punish A Man Because He Has Committed A Crime, Or Because He Is Believed, Though Unjustly, To Have Committed A Crime, Is Not Persecution. To Punish A Man, Because We Infer From The Nature Of Some Doctrine Which He Holds, Or From The Conduct Of Other Persons Who Hold The Same Doctrines With Him, That He Will Commit A Crime, Is Persecution, And Is, In Every Case, Foolish And Wicked.

A Kind Of Semi-solomon, Half-knowing Everything, From The Cedar To The Hyssop.

Those Who Compare The Age In Which Their Lot Has Fallen With A Golden Age Which Exists Only In Imagination, May Talk Of Degeneracy And Decay; But No Man Who Is Correctly Informed As To The Past, Will Be Disposed To Take A Morose Or Desponding View Of The Present.

I Don't Mind Your Thinking Slowly; I Mind Your Publishing Faster Than You Think.

Cut Off My Head, And Singular I Am, Cut Off My Tail, And Plural I Appear; Although My Middle's Left, There's Nothing There! What Is My Head Cut Off? A Sounding Sea; What Is My Tail Cut Off? A Rushing River; And In Their Mingling Depths I Fearless Play, Parent Of Sweetest Sounds, Yet Mute Forever.