Mercy. That is the gospel. The whole of it in one word.

Morality is but the vestibule of religion.

There is less misery in being cheated than in that kind of wisdom which perceives, or thinks it perceives, that all mankind are cheats.

Tomorrow may never come to us. We do not live in tomorrow. We cannot find it in any of our title-deeds. The man who owns whole blocks of real estate, and great ships on the sea, does not own a single minute of tomorrow. Tomorrow! It is a mysterious possibility, not yet born. It lies under the seal of midnight-behind the veil of glittering constellations.

The individual and the race are always moving, and as we drift into new latitudes new lights open in the heaven more immediately over us.

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

The loss of fortune to a true man is but the trumpet challenge to renewed exertion, not the thunder stroke of destruction.