Until I truly loved, I was alone.

God made all pleasures innocent.

Of all the joys that lighten suffering earth, what joy is welcomed like a new born child?

A woman's suffering is never above half known, for the fact of the publicity of her wrongs is counted to her for disgrace.

A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away.

I do not ask for my rights. I have no rights. I have only wrongs.

Oh, there at last, life's trials past, / We'll meet our loved ones more, / Whose feet have trod the path to God, -- / Not lost, but gone before.