The Tree Is But A Huge Boquet.

The Natural Term Of An Apple-pie Is But Twelve Hours. It Reaches Its Highest State About One Hour After It Comes From The Oven, And Just Before Its Natural Heat Has Quite Departed. But Every Hour Afterward Is A Declension. And After It Is One Day Old, It Is Thence-forward But The Ghastly Corpse Of Apple-pie.

There Are More Quarrels Smothered By Just Shutting Your Mouth, And Holding It Shut, Than By All The Wisdom In The World.

There Is No Right More Universal And More Sacred, Because Lying So Near The Root Of Existence, Than The Right Of Men To Their Own Labor.

Clothes And Manners Do Not Make The Man; But When He Is Made, They Greatly Improve His Appearance.

Perverted Pride Is A Great Misfortune In Men; But Pride In Its Original Function, For Which God Created It, Is Indispensable To A Proper Manhood.