A word of kindness is seldom spoken in vain. It can be and is often treasured by the recipient for life.
There is a realm where the rainbow never fades
A word of kindness is seldom spoken in vain, while witty saying are as easily lost as the pearls slipping from a broken string.
When a man has been intemperate so long that shame no longer paints a blush upon his cheek, his liquor generally does it instead.
It is, perhaps, a debatable question, whether a person who has always been notoriously in the habit of lying, has a right to tell the truth; it is, of course, the only device by which he can deceive people.
A great many political speeches are literary parricides; they kill their fathers.
We are in favor of tolerance, but it is a very difficult thing to tolerate the intolerant and impossible to tolerate the intolerable.
It is in vain to hope to please all alike. Let a man stand with his face in what direction he will, he must necessarily turn his back on one half of the world.
It is undoubtedly true that some people mistake sycophancy for good nature, but it is equally true that many more mistake impertinence for sincerity.
Some men give as little light in the world as a farthing tallow candle, and when they expire, leave as bad an odor behind them.
Our material possessions, like our joys, are enhanced in value by being shared. Hoarded and unimproved property can only afford satisfaction to a miser.
One of the very best of all earthly possessions is self-possession.
Many a writer seems to think he is never profound except when he can't understand his own meaning.
In New York City, the common bats fly only at twilight. Brick-bats fly at all hours.
A dentist at work in his vocation always looks down in the mouth.
Some things are better eschewed than chewed; tobacco is one of them.
A man bitten by a dog, whether the animal is mad or not, is apt to get mad himself.
Some people use half their ingenuity to get into debt, and the other half to avoid paying it.
A pin has as much head as some authors and a good deal more point.
Many writers profess great exactness in punctuation who never yet made a point.
Remorseless time! fierce spirit of the glass and scythe,--what power can stay him in his silent course, or melt his iron heart with pity!
Time knows not the weight of sleep or weariness, and night's deep darkness has no chain to bind his rushing pinion.
Some men's ugliness is hard to beat.
Gone! gone forever!-like a rushing wave
Another year has burst upon the shore
Of earthly being-and its last low tones,
Wandering in broken accents in the air,
Are dying to an echo.
The waves Of the mysterious death-river moaned; The tramp, the shout, the fearful thunder-roar Of red-breathed cannon, and the wailing cry Of myriad victims, filled the air.
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