What should I do—how should I act now, this very day . . . What she would resolve to do that day did not yet seem quite clear, but something that she could achieve stirred her as with an approaching murmur which would soon gather distinctness.

It is impossible, to me at least, to be poetical in cold weather.

The responsibility of tolerance lies with those who have the wider vision.

That is the bitterest of all,--to wear the yoke of our own wrong-doing.

Enveloped in a common mist, we seem to walk in clearness ourselves, and behold only the mist that enshrouds others.

There is no short-cut no patent tram-road, to wisdom. After all the centuries of invention, the soul's path lies through the thorny wilderness which must still be trodden in solitude, with bleeding feet, with sobs for help, as it was trodden by them of old time.

There is no sense of ease like the ease we felt in those scenes where we were born.