There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.

In the vain laughter of folly wisdom hears half its applause.

Half the sorrows of women would be averted if they could repress the speech they know to be useless-nay, the speech they have resolved not to utter.

It is one thing to see your road, another to cut it.

It is a vain thought to flee from the work that God appoints us, for the sake of finding a greater blessing, instead of seeking it where alone it is to be found - in loving obedience.

You must love your work and not always be looking over the edge of it wanting your play to begin.

One couldn't carry on life comfortably without a little blindness to the fact that everything has been said better than we can put it ourselves.