No Sensible Person Ever Made

Cities Give Not The Human Senses Room Enough. We Go Out Daily And Nightly To Feed The Eyes On The Horizon, And Require So Much Scope, Just As We Need Water For Our Bath.

It Is Always So Pleasant To Be Generous, Though Very Vexatious To Pay Debts.

The Paid Wealth Which Hundreds In The Community Acquire In Trade, Or By The Incessant Expansions Of Our Population And Arts, Enchants The Eyes Of All The Rest; The Luck Of One Is The Hope Of Thousands, And The Bribe Acts Like The Neighborhood Of A Gold Mine To Impoverish The Farm, The School, The Church, The House, And The Very Body And Feature Of Man.

Napoleon Said Of Massena, That He Was Not Himself Until The Battle Began To Go Against Him; Then, When The Dead Began To Fall In Ranks Around Him, Awoke His Powers Of Combination, And He Put On Terror And Victory As A Robe.

We May Like Well To Know What Is Plato’s And What Is Montesquieu’s Or Goethe’s Part, And What Thought Was Always Dear To The Writer Himself; But The Worth Of The Sentences Consists In Their Radiancy And Equal Aptitude To All Intelligence. They Fit All Our Facts Like A Charm. We Respect Ourselves The More That We Know Them.