A garden, sir, wherein all rainbows and flowers were heaped together.

Pain is no evil, unless it conquers us.

There is a great deal of human nature in man.

Better is old wine than new, and old friends like-wise.

What is the commonest, and yet the least remembered form of heroism? The heroism of an average mother. Ah! when I think of that broad fact I gather hope again for poor humanity, and this dark world looks bright, this diseased world looks wholesome to me once more, because, whatever else it is or is not full of, it is at least full of mothers.

All but God is changing day by day.

Those clouds are angels' robes.