Man is an imitative creature.

Utility is the great idol of the age, to which all powers must do service and all talents swear allegiance.

Time consecrates; and what is gray with age becomes religion.

What the inner voice says will not disappoint the hoping soul.

It may here be justly said, that genuine morality is preserved only in the school of adversity, and a state of continuous prosperity may easily prove a quicksand to virtue.

Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.

A deep meaning often lies in old customs.