Life As We Call It, Is Nothing

The Morning Cup Of Coffee Has An Exhilaration About It Which The Cheering Influence Of The Afternoon Or Evening Cup Of Tea Cannot Be Expected To Reproduce.

The Indian Is But A Sketch In Red Crayon Of A Rudimental Manhood. To The Problem Of His Relation To The White Race, There Is One Solution: Extermination.

Youth Fades, Love Droops, The Leaves Of Friendship Fall; A Mother's Secret Hope Outlives Them All.

Every Event That A Man Would Master Must Be Mounted On The Run, And No Man Ever Caught The Reins Of A Thought Except As It Galloped Past Him.

I Hate Facts. I Always Say The Chief End Of Man Is To Form General Propositions - Adding That No General Proposition Is Worth A Damn.