Nathaniel Hawthorne

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

One picture in ten thousand, perhaps, ought to live in the
applause of mankind, from generation to generation until read more

One picture in ten thousand, perhaps, ought to live in the
applause of mankind, from generation to generation until the
colors fade and blacken out of sight or the canvas rot entirely
away.

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.

Mountains are earth's undecaying monuments.

Mountains are earth's undecaying monuments.

"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."