There Is A Sacredness In Tears

Society Is Like A Lawn, Where Every Roughness Is Smoothed, Every Bramble Eradicated, And Where The Eye Is Delighted By The Smiling Verdure Of A Velvet Surface

The Indians With Surprise Found The Mouldering Trees Of Their Forests Suddenly Teeming With Ambrosial Sweet; And Nothing, I Am Told, Can Exceed The Greedy Relish With Which They Banquet For The First Time Upon This Unbought Luxury Of The Wilderness.

For What Is History, But... Huge Libel On Human Nature, To Which We Industriously Add Page After Page, Volume After Volume, As If We Were Holding Up A Monument To The Honor, Rather Than The Infamy Of Our Species.

Into The Space Of One Little Hour Sins Enough May Be Conjured Up By Evil Tongues To Blast The Fame Of A Whole Life Of Virtue.

From Its Peaceful Bosom Spring None But Fond Regrets And Tender Recollections.