Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.

The first condition of human goodness is something to love; the second, something to reverence.

Hold up your head! You were not made for failure, you were made for victory. Go forward with a joyful confidence.

When death, the great reconciler, has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity.

Unwonted circumstances may make us all rather unlike ourselves: there are conditions under which the most majestic person is obliged to sneeze, and our emotions are liable to be acted on in the same incongruous manner.

Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.

When one is grateful for something too good for common thanks, writing is less unsatisfactory than speech-one does not, at least, hear how inadequate the words are.