Mary! Mary! My dear, let me reason with you. I hate reasoning, John, — especially reasoning on such subjects. There's a way you political folks have … - Harriet Beecher Stowe

There's a way you political folks have of coming round and round a plain right thing

"Your Kentuckian of the present day is a good illustration of the doctrine of transmitted instincts and peculiarities. His fathers were mighty hunters, - men who lived in the woods, and slept under the free, open heavens, with the stars to hold their candles; and their descendant to this day always acts as if the house were his camp, - wears his hat at all hours, tumbles himself about, and puts his heels on the tops of chairs or mantel-pieces, just as his father rolled on the green sward, and put his upon trees or logs, - keep all the windows and doors open, winter and summer, that he may get air enough for his great lungs, - calls everybody "stranger", with nonchalant bonhommie, and is altogether the frankest, easiest, most jovial creature living."

«لست أريد الذهاب إلى الجنة. أليست الجنة هي المكان الذي سيذهب إليه أصحاب البشرة البيضاء؟ إنني لأفضل أن أذهب إلى الجحيم على أن أجتمع بسيدي وسيدتي في الجنة!»

A man builds a house in England with the expectation of living in it and leaving it to his children; while we shed our houses in America as easily as a snail does his shell. We live a while in Boston, and then a while in New York, and then, perhaps, turn up at Cincinnati. Scarcely any body with us is living where they expect to live and die. The man that dies in the house he was born in is a wonder. There is something pleasant in the permanence and repose of the English family estate, which we, in America, know very little of.