No language can express the power and beauty and heroism of a mother's love.

All evil, in fact the very existence of evil, is inexplicable until we refer to the paternity of God. It hangs a huge blot in the universe until the orb of divine love rises behind it. In that apposition we detect its meaning. It appears to us but a finite shadow as it passes across the disk of infinite light.

The golden age is not in the past, but in the future; not in the origin of human experience, but in its consummate flower; not opening in Eden, but out from Gethsemane.

The highest genius never flowers in satire, but culminates in sympathy with that which is best in human nature, and appeals to it.

The brightest crowns that are worn in heaven have been tried, and smelted, and polished and glorified through the furnaces of tribulation.

Is there anything so wretched as to look at a man of fine abilities doing nothing?

Most men are less afraid of ghosts than of facts.