There Is Never Jealousy Where

The Land Of Literature Is A Fairy Land To Those Who View It At A Distance, But, Like All Other Landscapes, The Charm Fades On A Nearer Approach, And The Thorns And Briars Become Visible.

Men Are Always Doomed To Be Duped, Not So Much By The Arts Of The Other As By Their Own Imagination. They Are Always Wooing Goddesses, And Marrying Mere Mortals.

The Almighty Dollar, That Great Object Of Universal Devotion.

There Is An Enduring Tenderness In The Love Of A Mother To A Son That Trancends All Other Affections Of The Heart

All These, However, Were Mere Terrors Of The Night, Phantoms Of The Mind That Walk In Darkness; And Though He Had Seen Many Spectres In His Time, And Been More Than Once Beset By Satan In Divers Shapes, In His Lonely Pre-ambulations, Yet Daylight Put An End To All These Evils; And He Would Have Passed A Pleasent Life Of It, In Despite Of The Devil And All His Works, If His Path Had Not Been Crossed By A Being That Causes More Perplexity To Mortal Man Than Ghosts, Goblins, And The Whole Race Of Witches Put Together, And That Was - A Woman.