A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.

Christmas is the day that holds all time together.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.

Style, after all, rather than thought, is the immortal thing in literature.

There is a slow-growing beauty which only comes to perfection in old age.... I have seen sweeter smiles on a lip of seventy than I ever saw on a lip of seventeen. There is the beauty of youth, and there is also the beauty of holiness—a beauty much more seldom met; and more frequently found in the arm-chair by the fire, with grandchildren around its knee, than in the ball-room or the promenade.

God has thickly strewn infinity with grandeur.

In my garden I spend my days; in my library I spend my nights.