Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall.

Let Us Then, Be Up And Doing.

Silence And Solitude, The Soul's Best Friends.

Were Half The Power That Fills The World With Terror, Were Half The Wealth Bestowed On Camps And Courts, Given To Redeem The Human Mind From Error, There Were No Need Of Arsenals Or Forts.

I Feel A Kind Of Reverence For The First Books Of Young Authors. There Is So Much Aspiration In Them, So Much Audacious Hope And Trembling Fear, So Much Of The Heart's History, That All Errors And Shortcomings Are For A While Lost Sight Of In The Amiable Self Assertion Of Youth.

So Nature Deals With Us, And Takes Away Our Playthings One By One, And By The Hand Leads Us To Rest.