Republic of letters.

Republic of letters.

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the read more

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming! Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries... - Melting Pot, The.

Books are humanity in print.

Books are humanity in print.

There is no human reason why a child should not admire and emulate his teacher's ability to do sums, rather read more

There is no human reason why a child should not admire and emulate his teacher's ability to do sums, rather than the village bum's ability to whittle sticks and smoke cigarettes. The reason why the child does not is plain enough -- the bum has put himself on an equality with him and the teacher has not.

Here at lastWe shall be free;the Almighty hath not builtHere for his envy, will not drive us hence:Here we may read more

Here at lastWe shall be free;the Almighty hath not builtHere for his envy, will not drive us hence:Here we may reign secure, and in my choiceTo reign is worth ambition though in Hell:Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven. - Paradise Lost.

Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, read more

Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While read more

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please;These were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled. - Deserted Village, The.

As I was going up the stairI met a man who wasn't thereHe wasn't there again todayI wish, I wish read more

As I was going up the stairI met a man who wasn't thereHe wasn't there again todayI wish, I wish he'd stay away. - The Psychoed.

But, indeed, we prefer books to pounds; and we love manuscripts
better than florins; and we prefer small pamphlets read more

But, indeed, we prefer books to pounds; and we love manuscripts
better than florins; and we prefer small pamphlets to war horses.