There Are Rainy Days In Autumn And

When I Hear Of The Destruction Of A Species, I Feel Just As If All The Works Of Some Great Writer Have Perished.

There Is Not A Man Of Us Who Does Not At Times Need A Helping Hand To Be Stretched Out To Him, And Then Shame Upon Him Who Will Not Stretch Out The Helping Hand To His Brother.

In Battle, The Only Bullets That Count Are Those That Hit.

The Mass Of The American People Are Most Emphatically Not In The Deplorable Condition Of Which You Speak.

It Is Hard To Fail, But It Is Worse Never To Have Tried To Succeed.