See! those fiendish lineaments graven on the darkness, the writhed lip of scorn, the mockery of that living eye, the pointed finger, touching the sore place in your heart! Do you remember any act of enormous folly, at which you would blush, even in the remotest cavern of the earth? Then recognize your Shame. |
Selfishness is one of the qualities apt to inspire love. |
Shall we never, never get rid of this Past? cried he, keeping up the earnest tone of his preceding conversation. "It lies upon the Present like a giant's dead body." |
Shame, Depair, Soltude! These had been her teachers, stern and wild ones,- and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss." |
She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom! |
She named the infant `Pearl', as being of great price - purchased with all she had. |
So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit. |
Such has often been my apathy, when objects long sought, and earnestly desired, were placed within my reach |
Sunlight is painting. |
The best of us being unfit to die, what an unexpressible absurdity to put the worst to death |
The calmer thought is not always the right thought, just as the distant view is not always the truest view |
The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognized it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison. |
The greatest obstacle to being heroic is to doubt whether one may not be going to prove one's self a fool; the truest heroism is, to resist the doubt; and the profoundest wisdom, to know when it ought to be resisted, and when to be obeyed. |
The only sensible ends of literature are, first, the pleasurable toil of writing; second, the gratification of one's family and friends; and lastly, the solid cash |
The Pyncheon Elm, throughout its great circumference, was all alive, and full of the morning sun and a sweet-tempered little breeze, which lingered within this verdant sphere, and set a thousand leafty tongues a-whispering all at once. This ages tree appeared to have suffered nothing from the gale. It has kept its boughs unshattered, and its full complement of leaves, and the whole in perfect verdure, except a single branch, that, by the earlier change with which the elm-tree sometimes prophesies the autumn, had been transmuted to bright gold. |