How like a railway tunnel is the poor man's life, with the light of childhood at one end, the intermediate gloom, and only the glimmer of a future life at the other extremity!

It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.

Ideas are like matter, infinitely divisible. It is not given to us to get down so to speak to their final atoms, but to their molecular groupings-the way is never ending and the progress infinitely delightful and profitable.

Many children, many cares; no children, no felicity.

Adhesion to one idea is monomania; to few, slavery.

Earth took her shining station as a star, In Heaven's dark hall, high up the crowd of worlds.

God has created too few unmixed evils to warrant the belief that death is one of them. In all things else in nature, goodness so abounds that we are authorized to infer that it does not stop even at the grave. It is only that her footprints have become invisible.