An aged Christian, with the snow of time upon his head, may remind us that those points of earth are whitest which are nearest to heaven.

A true man never frets about his place in the world, but just slides into it by the gravitation of his nature, and swings there as easily as a star.

Never does the human soul appear so strong as when it foregoes revenge and dares to forgive an injury.

The creed of a true saint is to make the best of life, and to make the most of it.

Not in achievement, but in endurance, of the human soul, does it show its divine grandeur and its alliance with the infinite.

Gaiety is often the reckless ripple over depths of despair.