Nature satisfies my thirst; it feeds my hunger; it finds me clothing; it affords me shelter; it wraps me around when I sleep with beneficent and watchful care; and it takes me at last to its great bosom, where my ashes mingle with their kindred dust.

Swift calls discretion low prudence; it is high prudence, and one of the most important elements entering into either social or political life.

Some people habitually wear sadness, like a garment, and think it a becoming grace. God loves a cheerful worshipper.

Life is a crucible. We are thrown into it and tried.

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.

How often a new affection makes a new man! The sordid, cowering soul turns heroic. The frivolous girl becomes the steadfast martyr of patience and ministration, transfigured by deathless love. The career of bounding impulses turns into an anthem of sacred deeds.

The deepest life of nature is silent and obscure; so often the elements that move and mould society are the results of the sister's counsel and the mother's prayer.