The best happiness will be to escape the worst misery.

Subtract from the New Testament the miraculous and highly impossible, and what will be the remainder?

There are glances of hatred that stab, and raise no cry of murder.

Pride helps us; and pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our own hurts—not to hurt others.

It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able to feel that it is fine--something like being blind, while people talk of the sky.

There are some cases in which the sense of injury breeds not the will to inflict injuries and climb over them as a ladder, but a hatred of all injury.

We could never have loved the earth so well if we had no childhood in it if it were not the earth where the same flowers come up again every spring that we used to gather with our tiny fingers as we sat lisping to ourselves on the grass . . .