"What's your hurry?" Because now is the only time there ever is to do a thing in," said Miss Ophelia." - Harriet Beecher Stowe

If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader, tomorrow morning, — if you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o'clock till morning to make good your escape, — how fast could you walk?

Death! Strange that there should be such a word, and such a thing, and we ever forget it; that one should be living, warm and beautiful, full of hopes, desires and wants, one day, and the next be gone, utterly gone, and forever!

Perhaps it is impossible for a person who does no good not to do harm.