Nathaniel Hawthorne

Every crime destroys more Edens than our own.

Every crime destroys more Edens than our own.

And what is more melancholy than the old apple-trees that linger
about the spot where once stood a homestead, read more

And what is more melancholy than the old apple-trees that linger
about the spot where once stood a homestead, but where there is
now only a ruined chimney rising our of a grassy and weed-grown
cellar? They offer their fruit to every wayfarer--apples that
are bitter-sweet with the moral of times vicissitude.

What we call real estate--the solid ground to build a house on--is the broad foundation on which nearly all the read more

What we call real estate--the solid ground to build a house on--is the broad foundation on which nearly all the guilt of this world rests.

Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the read more

Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.

"Here, dearest Eve," he exclaims, "here is food." "Well,"
answered she, with the germ of a housewife stirring within read more

"Here, dearest Eve," he exclaims, "here is food." "Well,"
answered she, with the germ of a housewife stirring within her,
"we have been so busy to-day that a picked-up dinner must serve."