Utopias Are Often Just Premature

The Loss Of A Mother Is Always Keenly Felt, Even If Her Health Be Such As To Incapacitate Her From Taking An Active Part In The Care Of The Family. She Is The Sweet Rallying-point For Affection, Obedience, And A Thousand Tendernesses. Dreary The Blank When She Is Withdrawn!

Ink Is The Transcript Of Thought.

What Mortal Is There, Over Whose First Joys And Happiness Does Not Break Some Storm, Dispelling With Its Icy Breath His Fanciful Illusions, And Shattering His Altar?

Barbarism Recommences By The Excess Of Civilization.

Assassination Makes Only Martyrs, Not Converts.