Books are the bees which carry the quickening pollen from one to another mind.
Nature fits all her children with something to do, he who would write and can't write, can surely review.
Not failure, but low aim, is crime.
The nurse of full-grown souls is solitude.
Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne.
The devil loves nothing better than the intolerance of reformers.
All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action.
A sneer is the weapon of the weak.
Light is the symbol of truth.
Greatly begin. Though thou have time, but for a line, be that sublime. Not failure, but low aim is crime.
And what is so rare as a day in June? Then if ever come perfect days Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune And over it softly her warm ear lays.
One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning.
Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend.
Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide ... And the choice goes by forever t'wixt that darkness and that light.
Darkness is strong and so is Sin But surely God endures forever!
Pride and weakness are Siamese twins.
The foolish and the dead alone never change their opinion.
The foolish and the dead alone never change their opinions.