Stain My Eyes As I May, On

The Wild Mustard In Southern California Is Like That Spoken Of In The New Testament. . . . Its Gold Is As Distinct A Value To The Eye As The Nugget Gold Is In The Pocket.

Wounded Vanity Knows When It Is Mortally Hurt; And Limps Off The Field, Piteous, All Disguises Thrown Away. But Pride Carries Its Banner To The Last; And Fast As It Is Driven From One Field Unfurls It In Another, Never Admitting That There Is A Shade Less Honor In The Second Field Than In The First, Or In The Third Than In The Second.

If I Could Write A Story That Would Do For The Indian One-hundredth Part What 'uncle Tom's Cabin' Did For The Negro, I Would Be Thankful The Rest Of My Life.

When Love Is At Its Best, One Loves So Much That He Cannot Forget.

I Shall Be Found With 'indians' Engraved On My Brain When I Am Dead. A Fire Has Been Kindled Within Me, Which Will Never Go Out.