Thou Art To Me A Delicious Torment.

The Efforts Which We Make To Escape From Our Destiny Only Serve To Lead Us Into It.

Love Is Like A Hunter, Who Cares Not For The Game When Once Caught, Which He May Have Pursued With The Most Intense And Breathless Eagerness. Love Is Strongest In Pursuit; Friendship In Possession.

Life Is Short But There Is Always Time For Courtesy.

Very Few Of Our Race Can Be Said To Be Yet Finished Men. We Still Carry Sticking To Us Some Remains Of The Preceding Inferior Quadruped Organization. We Call These Millions Men; But They Are Not Yet Men. Half-engaged In The Soil, Pawing To Get Free, Man Needs All The Music That Can Be Brought To Disengage Him.

We Live In A New And Exceptional Age. America Is Another Word For Opportunity. Our Whole History Appears Like A Last Effort Of The Divine Providence In Behalf Of The Human Race; And A Literal, Slavish Following Of Precedents, As By A Justice Of The Peace, Is Not For Those Who At This Hour Lead The American Civilization.