Death is a great revealer of what is in a man, and in its solemn shadow appear the naked lineaments of the soul.

Bigotry dwarfs the soul by shutting out the truth.

Physically, man is but an atom in space, and a pulsation in time. Spiritually, the entire outward universe receives significance from him, and the scope of his existence stretches beyond the stars.

Christianity has made martyrdom sublime, and sorrow triumphant.

A man that simply loads himself down with possessions of which he has no actual need, when he dies slips out of them--as a little insect might slip out of some parasite shell into which it has ensconced itself--into the grave, and is forgotten.

Whatever may be our condition in life, it is better to lay hold of its advantages than to count its evils.

A man's love for his native land lies deeper than any logical expression, among those pulses of the heart which vibrate to the sanctities of home, and to the thoughts which leap up from his father's graves.