I think when my mother died, it was such a - you know, a shock to the logic that I had been raised with.
Modesty and dew love the shade.
There is a name hidden in the shadow of my soul, where I read it night and day and no other eye sees it.
Yet, in these autumn days when Nature expires, Here, in these veiled scenes, I find more attractions; It is a friend's sad goodbye; it is the last smile From lips that death is going to close forever!
Let us enjoy the fugitive hour. Man has no harbor, time has no shore; it rushes on, and carries us with it.
Providence conceals itself in the details of human affairs, but becomes unveiled in the generalities of history.
Mystery hovers over all things here below.
The only people that should vote should be legal.
Why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe?
Both childbirth and abortion are medical procedures but neither is an illness, and sometimes they're both treated as such.
Nobody is so heartily despised as a pusillanimous, lazy, good-for-nothing, land-lubber; a sailor has no bowels of compassion for him.