You'll Find As You Grow Older That

What The American Public Wants In The Theater Is A Tragedy With A Happy Ending.

In Europe Life Is Histrionic And Dramatized, And In America, Except When It Is Trying To Be European, It Is Direct And Sincere.

The Swelling And Towering Omnibuses, The Huge Trucks And Wagons And Carriages, The Impetuous Hansoms And The More Sobered Four-wheelers, The Pony-carts, Donkey-carts, Hand-carts, And Bicycles Which Fearlessly Find Their Way Amidst The Turmoil, With Foot-passengers Winding In And Out, And Covering The Sidewalks With Their Multitude, Give The Effect Of A Single Monstrous Organism, Which Writhes Swiftly Along The Channel Where It Had Run In The Figure Of A Flood Till You Were Tired Of That Metaphor. You Are Now A Molecule Of That Vast Organism.

He Who Sleeps In Continual Noise Is Wakened By Silence.

The Wrecks Of Slavery Are Fast Growing A Fungus Crop Of Sentiment.