Remorse is the poison of life.

“Come, Miss Jane, don’t cry,' said Bessie…She might as well have said to the fir…”

“I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart: and when …”

“A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and trembled through the bou…”

“-¿Cómo no se estremece? -Porque no tengo frío. -¿Cómo no palidece? -Porque no e…”