It Is Not Work That Kills Men;

You May Say, "i Wish To Send This Ball So As To Kill The Lion Crouching Yonder, Ready To Spring Upon Me. My Wishes Are All Right, And I Hope Providence Will Direct The Ball." Providence Won't. You Must Do It; And If You Do Not, You Are A Dead Man.

To The Great Tree-loving Fraternity We Belong. We Love Trees With Universal And Unfeigned Love, And All Things That Do Grow Under Them Or Around Them - The Whole Leaf And Root Tribe. Not Alone When They Are In Their Glory, But In Whatever State They Are - In Leaf, Or Rimed With Frost, Or Powdered With Snow, Or Crystal-sheathed In Ice, Or In Severe Outline Stripped And Bare Against A November Sky - We Love Them.

Nowhere On The Globe Do Men Live So Well As In America, Or Grumble So Much.

What We Call Wisdom Is The Result Of All The Wisdom Of Past Ages.

Man Is At The Bottom An Animal, Midway A Citizen, And At The Top Divine. But The Climate Of This World Is Such That Few Ripen At The Top.