My drawings at first were made altogether in watercolors, but they wanted softness and a great deal of finish.
Would it be possible that I should not in any degree succeed? I can scarcely think so. Ah delusive hope, how much further wilt thou lead me?
I waged war against my feelings.
My wife determined that my genius should prevail, and that my final success as an ornithologist should be triumphant.
In my deepest troubles, I frequently would wrench myself from the persons around me and retire to some secluded part of our noble forests.
On landing at New York I caught the yellow fever. The kind man who commanded the ship that brought me from France took charge of me and placed me under the care of two Quaker ladies. To their skillful and untiring care I may safely say I owe my life.
