Let Us Enjoy The Fugitive Hour. Man

We Don't Have Two Hearts, One For Animals And One For Humans ; We Have One Heart Or We Don't Have Any.

Men Are Misers, And Women Prodigal, In Affection.

Republicanism And Ignorance Are In Bitter Antagonism.

The Death Of A Man's Wife Is Like Cutting Down An Ancient Oak That Has Long Shaded The Family Mansion. Henceforth The Glare Of The World, With Its Cares And Vicissitudes Falls Upon The Old Widower's Heart, And There Is Nothing To Break Their Force, Or Shield Him From The Full Weight Of Misfortune. It Is As If His Right Hand Were Withered; As If One Wing Of His Angel Was Broken, And Every Movement That He Made Brought Him To The Ground.

Providence Conceals Itself In The Details Of Human Affairs, But Becomes Unveiled In The Generalities Of History.