The Only Hero Known To My Childhood

One Sees That Dead, Vacant Look Steal Over The Rarest, Finest Of Women's Faces . . . In The Very Midst, It May Be, Of Their Warmest Summer's Day; And Then One Can Guess At The Secret Of Intolerable Solitude That Lies Hid Beneath The Delicate Laces . . .

Men And Women Thought And Did Noble And Mean Things That Would Have Been Impossible To Them Before Or After. A Man Cannot Drink Old Bourbon Long And Remain In His Normal Condition. We Did Not Drink Bourbon, But Blood.

Reform Is Born Of Need, Not Pity. No Vital Movement Of The People Has Worked Down, For Good Or Evil; Fermented, Instead, Carried Up The Heaving, Cloggy Mass.

America May Have Great Poets And Novelists, But She Never Will Have More Than One Necromancer.

North And South Were Equally Confident That God Was On Their Side, And Appealed Incessantly To Him.