And here, shipmates, is true and faithful repentance; not clamorous for pardon, but grateful for punishment. - Herman Melville

but the reason why the grave-digger made music must have been because there was none in his spade

Strange as it may seem, there is nothing in which a young and beautiful female appears to more advantage than in the art of smoking.

But the mingled, mingling threads of life are woven by warp and woof: calms crossed by storms, a storm for every calm. There is no steady unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through fixed gradations, and at the last one pause: — through infancy’s unconscious spell, boyhood’s thoughtless faith, adolescence’ doubt (the common doom), then scepticism, then disbelief, resting at last in manhood’s pondering repose of If. But once gone through, we trace the round again; and are infants, boys, and men, and Ifs eternally.