... and she held out a pretty gold ring. 'Put it,' she said, 'on the fourth finger of my left hand, and I am yours and you are mine; and we shall leave Earth and make our own Heaven yonder.'

Give him enough rope and he will hang himself.

Men judge us by the success of our efforts. God looks at the efforts themselves.

Tact, if it be genuine, never sleeps.

You can write nothing of value unless you give yourself wholly to the the theme -- and when you so give yourself -- you lose appetite ans sleep -- it cannot be helped --

Memory in youth is active and easily impressible; in old age it is comparatively callous to new impressions, but still retains vividly those of earlier years.

I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.