A Peasant Can No More

The Select Natures Who Pant After The Ideal, And Find Nothing In Pantaloons Or Petticoats Great Enough To Command Their Reverence And Love, Are Curiously In Unison With The Narrowest And Pettiest.

... Indefinite Visions Of Ambition Are Weak Against The Ease Of Doing What Is Habitual Or Beguilingly Agreeable.

So Our Lives Glide On: The River Ends We Don't Know Where, And The Sea Begins, And Then There Is No More Jumping Ashore.

Men Outlive Their Love, But They Don’t Outlive The Consequences Of Their Recklessness.

You Know I Have Duties──we Both Have Duties──before Which Feeling Must Be Sacrificed.