Affliction comes to us, not to make us sad but sober; not to make us sorry but wise.

Affliction comes to all not to make us sad, but sober; not to make us sorry, but wise; not to make us despondent, but its darkness to refresh us, as the night refreshes the day; not to impoverish, but to enrich us, as the plow enriches the field; to

Now comes the mystery. (His last words)

It's not the work which kills people, it's the worry. It's not the revolution that destroys machinery it's the friction.

The real man is one who always finds excuses for others, but never excuses himself.

The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world's joy.