My dear Tim,—I hear from Mike that you are not in New York, and so I am writing you out of “love and affection,” as I hope to see Mike but won’t see you when I go to New York for Thanksgiving. It was my hope that we three could have a good talk over Mike’s Colombia plans, but do not trouble yourself with these business concerns. Get well—that’s the job for both you and me. We have been too extravagant of ourselves, and especially you, you big-hearted, energetic, unselfish son of Erin! Eighteen years I have known you and never a word or an act have I heard of or seen that did not make me feel that the campaign for Governor was worth while, because it gave me your acquaintance, friendship, affection. And Ned and George love you as I do. When I get mad, as I do sometimes, over something that the Irish do, I always am tempted to a hard generalization that I am compelled to modify, because of you and Mike and Dan O’Neill, in San Francisco—and a few more of the Great Irish—. ...
Well, my dear fellow, drop me a line when you feel like it and be sustained in your weakness by the unfaltering affection of thousands who know you, among them—
To Frank I, Cobb New York World
New York, December 6, 
Dear frank,—You are right, but too far ahead. We must come to Cabinet responsibility, and I am with you as an agitator. Twenty years may see it.
This morning you chide the Republicans for not having a program. Good God, man, why so partisan? What program have we? Will we just oppose; vote “Nay,” to all they propose? That way insures twenty years as “outs”—and we won’t deserve to be in. What we lack is just plain brains. We have a slushy, sentimental Democracy, but don’t have men who can concrete-ize feeling into policy, if you know what that means. A program—a practicable, constructive program—quietly drawn, agreeable to the leaders in both Houses, pushed for, advocated loudly! That’s our one hope—Agree? Yours cordially,
To John G. Gehring
New York, December 9, 
Well, my dear Doctor, here I am at another cross-roads. ... I leave ... in a day or two with a new dietary and some good advice. The latter in tabloid form being:—“Drop business for a time, go into it again slowly, and gradually creep into your job.” All of which is wise, and commends itself greatly to my erstwhile mind, but is much like saying, “Jump off the Brooklyn bridge, “slowly.” ... I am not resigned, of course. Because I cannot see the end. Definiteness is so imperative to some natures. However, I think that I have done all that an exacting Deity would demand, and cannot be accused of suicide, if things go badly.
Our plan is to go to Washington to see some old friends thence south and so to California, for a couple of months. Delightful program if one had health, but in exchange I would gladly take a sentence to three months in a chain-gang on the roads.