My heart hath followed all my days Something I cannot name.

For him who fain would teach the world The world holds hate in fee- For Socrates, the hemlock cup; For Christ, Gethsemane.

Every cloud has its silver lining but it is sometimes a little difficult to get it to the mint.

It takes all sorts of people to make the underworld.

If the world were not so full of people, and most of them did not have to work so hard, there would be more time for them to get out and lie on the grass, and there would be more grass for them to lie on.

Blood will tell, but often it tells too much.

Nearly every night before I go to bed I ask myself, "Have I vibrated in tune with the Infinite today, or have I failed?