There Is Nothing In The World So

There Is A Secret And Wholesome Conviction In The Heart Of Every Man Or Woman Who Has Written A Book That It Should Be No Easy Matter For An Intelligent Reader To Lay Down That Book Unfinished. There Is A Pardonable Impression Among Reviewers That Half An Hour In Its Company Is Sufficient.

We Are Tethered To Our Kind, And May As Well Join Hands In The Struggle.

There Is A Natural Limit To The Success We Wish Our Friends, Even When We Have Spurred Them On Their Way.

If History In The Making Be A Fluid Thing, It Swiftly Crystallizes.

It Is Not Easy To Find Happiness In Ourselves, And It Is Not Possible To Find It Elsewhere.