My son, we shall never set eyes upon your father again.

You may marvel at my dry eyes, but it you knew as I know the peace which death would bring him, you could not find it in your heart to mourn for him.

All pursuit is, I feel, vain, and yet some pursuit there must be.

Let it be as private as possible.

We cannot serve him better than by consulting his wishes.' "'But every minute is precious,' I cried.