Our Sweetest Experiences Of Affection Are Meant

There Is No Right More Universal And More Sacred, Because Lying So Near The Root Of Existence, Than The Right Of Men To Their Own Labor.

What If You Have Seen It Before, Ten Thousand Times Over? An Apple Tree In Full Blossom Is Like A Message, Sent Fresh From Heaven To Earth, Of Purity And Beauty.

The Pie Should Be Eaten "while It Is Yet Florescent, White Or Creamy Yellow, With The Merest Drip Of Candied Juice Along The Edges, (as If The Flavor Were So Good To Itself That Its Own Lips Watered!) Of A Mild And Modest Warmth, The Sugar Suggesting Jelly, Yet Not Jellied, The Morsels Of Apple Neither Dissolved Nor Yet In Original Substance, But Hanging As It Were In A Trance Between The Spirit And The Flesh Of Applehood...then, O Blessed Man, Favored By All The Divinities! Eat, Give Thanks, And Go Forth, 'in Apple-pie Order!'"

Thinking Cannot Be Clear Until It Has Had Expression-we Must Write, Or Speak, Or Act Our Thoughts, Or They Will Remain In Half Torpid Form. Our Feelings Must Have Expression, Or They Will Be As Clouds, Which, Till They Descend In Rain, Will Never Bring Up Fruit Or Flowers. So It Is With All The Inward Feelings; Expression Gives Them Development-thought Is The Blossom; Language Is The Opening Bud; Action The Fruit Behind It.

The Mischiefs Of Anarchy Have Been Equaled By The Mischiefs Of Government.