Christmas Is A Season Of Such Infinite

What Shall I Do With All The Days And Hours That Must Be Counted Ere I See Thy Face? How Shall I Charm The Interval That Lowers Between This Time And That Sweet Time Of Grace?

The Large And Rapid Fortunes By Which Vulgar And Ignorant People Become Possessed Of Splendid Houses, Splendidly Furnished, Do Not Of Course, Give Them The Feelings And Manners Of Gentle Folks.

Rome ... Seems To Me The Place In The World Where One Can Best Dispense With Happiness.

In The North We Could Not Hope To Keep The Worst And Poorest Servant For A Single Day In The Wretched Discomfort In Which Our Negro Servants Are Forced Habitually To Live.

I Never Desire To Know Anything Of The Detail Of Political Measures, Lest Even Those Which I Think Best Should Lose Anything Of Their Intrinsic Value To Me, By Seeing What Low, Paltry, Personal Motives And Base Machinery And Dirty Hands Have Helped To Bring Them About.