Men Who Know The Same Things Are

In A Tavern Everybody Puts On Airs Except The Landlord.

Rings And Jewels Are Not Gifts, But Apologies For Gifts. The Only Gift Is A Portion Of Thyself. Thou Must Bleed For Me. Therefore The Poet Brings His Poem; The Shepherd, His Lamb; The Farmer, Corn; The Miner, A Stone; The Painter, His Picture; The Girl, A Handkerchief Of Her Own Sewing.

It Is For Want Of Self-culture That The Superstition Of Travelling, Whose Idols Are Italy, England, Egypt, Retains Its Fascinationfor All Educated Americans.

There Is Guidance For Each Of Us, And By Lowly Listening We Shall Hear The Right Word.

All High Beauty Has A Moral Element In It.