Youth is no less vulnerable, by the very quality it has of making the heart ache that beholds and has lost it.

Here I begin to know that blessedness is what can be snatched out the passing day and put away to think of afterwards.

The mountains of today are the molehills of tomorrow.

Truth, like the burgeoning of a bulb under the soil, however deeply sown, will make its way to the light.

One century's saint is the next century's heretic ... and one century's heretic is the next century's saint. It is as well to think long and calmly before affixing either name to any man.

There is no one who cannot be hated, against whatever odds. Nor anyone who cannot be loved, against all reason.

Life goes not in a straight line, lad, but in a circle. The first half we spend venturing as far as the world's end from home and kin and stillness, and the latter half brings us back, by roundabout ways but surely, to that state from which we set out.