Alas, how can we help but mourn When hero bosoms yield their breath! A century itself may bear But once the flower of such a death.

- Silas Weir Mitchell

The arctic loneliness of age.

- Silas Weir Mitchell

Death's but one more to-morrow.

- Silas Weir Mitchell

Up anchor! Up anchor! Set sail and away! The ventures of dreamland Are thine for a day.

- Silas Weir Mitchell

He alone has lost the art to live who cannot win new friends.

- Silas Weir Mitchell

There are those who suffer and grow strong; there are those who suffer and grow weak. This mystery of pain is still for me the saddest of earth's dis…

- Silas Weir Mitchell

Medicine is only palliative. For behind disease lies the cause and this cause NO DRUG can reach.

- Silas Weir Mitchell