Sail On, O Ship Of State! Sail

The Men That Women Marry, And Why They Marry Them, Will Always Be A Marvel And A Mystery To The World.

Critics Are Sentinels In The Grand Army Of Letters, Stationed At The Corners Of Newspapers And Reviews, To Challenge Every New Author.

He Looks The Whole World In The Face For He Owes Not Any Man.

Our Pleasures And Our Discontents, Are Rounds By Which We May Ascend.

To-day, To-morrow, Every Day, To Thousands The End Of The World Is Close At Hand. And Why Should We Fear It? We Walk Here, As It Were, In The Crypts Of Life; At Times, From The Great Cathedral Above Us, We Can Hear The Organ And The Chanting Choir; We See The Light Stream Through The Open Door, When Some Friend Goes Up Before Us; And Shall We Fear To Mount The Narrow Staircase Of The Grave That Leads Us Out Of This Uncertain Twilight Into Life Eternal?