The universe is a thought of God.

The mountain cannot frighten one who was born on it.

What reason, like the careful ant, draws laboriously together, the wind of accident sometimes collects in a moment.

Time is a blooming field: nature is ever teeming with life: and all is seed, and all is fruit.

To be man's tender mate was woman born, and in obeying nature she best serves the purposes of heaven.

O God, how lovely still is life!

Stern is the visage of necessity.