I cannot love thee; thou 'rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God's pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!

I see heaven's glories shine and faith shines equal.

how cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling

I take so little interest in my daily life, that I hardly remember to eat and drink.

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.

How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.

I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.