Washington Irving

A tart temper never mellows with age; and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with read more

A tart temper never mellows with age; and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use.

Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, read more

Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.

Great minds have purposes, others have wishes.

Great minds have purposes, others have wishes.

The moon of the whip-poor-will from the hillside; the boding cry
of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the read more

The moon of the whip-poor-will from the hillside; the boding cry
of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of
the screechowl.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently read more

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.