Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
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Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
How blest to the toiler his hour of release
When the vesper is heard with its whisper of peace!

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

It is not often that an opinion is worth expressing, which cannot
take care of itself.

It is not often that an opinion is worth expressing, which cannot
take care of itself.

Then there is that glorious Epicurean paradox, uttered by my
friend, the Historian in one of his flashing moments: read more

Then there is that glorious Epicurean paradox, uttered by my
friend, the Historian in one of his flashing moments: "Give us
the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries."

Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone
(A very plain read more

Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone
(A very plain brown stone will do),
That I may call my own;
And close at hand is such a one
In yonder street that fronts the sun.